The Tale of The Grey Rider
by Master of The Blood Wolves
Summary: A street urchin named Jesse O'Malley joins the Dragon Riders of Old, and takes on the name of Aragon the Grey.  Follow his journey from street urchin to dimension travelling wanderer.  First story in a series. Pre-Fall.
1. Chapter 1

**The Tale of The Grey Rider**

Chapter One

Jesse O'Malley: Urchin

**This is a story about the Original Characters I introduced in **_**Rulers of the Skies: **_**Aragon and Thelduin.**

**It's about how Aragon came to be a Dragon Rider, and, if I finish this, it'll tell about some of his adventures as The Grey Rider.**

**Disclaimer: I only own Aragon, Thelduin, and any other OC's that appear in this fan fiction.**

**Incidentally, this is my first actual Fanfiction, most of my other stories are Crossovers.**

Jesse O'Malley, sprinted down the narrow alley as the street guard hunted for him, and the stale loaf of bread he'd stolen from _The Green Chestnut_.  
A drainpipe provided easy access to the rooftops, and Jesse was more than happy to take any advantage over his pursuers as he could get.  
_Shade's blood, if the guards are making this much fuss over a loaf of stale bread, I'd hate to see what they'd do to someone stealing something that was actually worth something._ Thought Jesse as he slid across a rope suspended between two buildings, that was hung with fair ribbons.  
When he reached the far side, he skipped across several more narrow alleys, and jumped from a beam hanging from a barn across a street onto an awning over a shopfront, then proceeded to scramble onto the roof, before ducking behind the chimney and hunkering down.

* * *

A half an hour later, Jesse was eating the slightly stale bread, and thinking.  
Not about the arrogant, elven, prat Kialandi, who kept strutting around Tierm like he owned the place, just because the Dragon Riders had allowed him to attempt to join their ranks, although that did give Jesse pause for thought.

No, Jesse was thinking about joining the Riders himself.  
He gained nothing by remaining an urchin, and if they accepted him, then he gained _everything_.  
The only things stopping him: First of all, he'd have to pass the mysterious 'test' that was always associated with joining the Riders as an aspirant, whenever Jesse considered everything he'd heard, particularly from the Riders themselves, he shivered in fear, the test was supposed to be the single scariest trial a prospective Rider had to take.

The second thing stopping him, was that every noble, rich-kid or well-to-do, no-hoper in Tierm and for miles in every direction would probably just push him out of the Rider's great keep, and that's if they didn't beat him first.

The third problem, was Kialandi and many of the other rich-boys of Tierm, often hung around the great citadel, to rough up anyone they didn't feel was 'worthy' to be in the well-to-do parts of town.  
Jesse had stuck up for one poor girl who'd been cornered by Kialandi and his mates once, and had copped a severe beating because of it.

It wasn't that Jesse regretted doing the right thing, but healer's bills were expensive and healing of your own volition was just as bad.  
_You know what?_ Jesse told himself at last,_ you'd be completely stupid not to do this, rich-brats or not.  
_He smiled at the thought.  
_Besides, it'll piss Kialandi off no-end to see me there, and he wouldn't want to let his hatred of me ruin his chances._ Thought Jesse, imagining just how pissed off the little elven prick would be to have to just tolerate his presence without hitting him. _Who says us underclass kids are stupid?_ Asked Jesse, congratulating himself, as he stood, and headed towards the citadel, where in an hour's time, those with the nerve to, could take the Rider's test, and attempt to become a Rider.

* * *

Jesse strode purposefully down the street, towards the citadel, but as he got closer to the citadel, he took to the rooftops.  
It was just as well, because on the ground, Jesse recognised one of Kialandi's cronies.  
As Jesse watched, a boy from the old district, which was the poorest part of the city, walked by Kialandi's stooge, and the stooge grabbed him.

'Where do you think your going?' The boy snarled at the younger boy, who shrank back, not because of fear,-heaven knew to grow up in the old district, and have the guts to try and become a Rider, you beat fear pretty quickly.  
It was more the cane that the stooge was waving threateningly.

_Oh, that is just not playing fair…_ Thought Jesse as he realised what Kialandi had done: He'd told his mates to terrorise anyone from the poorer parts of town into not going to the citadel.  
Jesse glanced around and noticed a convenient loose brick on the roof.  
_Gods, I love lazy builders._ Thought Jesse as he hefted the brick, took aim, and threw it.

The stooge was about to lay into the boy he'd baled up, when Jesse's brick shattered his cane, then landed broadside on the top of his head, knocking him out cold.  
The boy looked up in surprise, and threw a parodied salute to Jesse, who returned it with a bow, then both of them continued on their way.

* * *

When Jesse reached the street nearest the citadel gate, he wasn't surprised to find it packed, nor was he surprised to see many of Kialandi's friends trying to rough up some of the poorer populace that were after a better life.  
It was a pretty even shoving match, so Jesse didn't concern himself.

Instead, he worked his way across the roof, to just outside the gate, where he slid down a drainpipe, and landed behind his least favourite elf: Kialandi Aldemar.  
And he was in full strutting mode.

Jesse payed the elven idiot no heed, and went to join the line of hopefuls outside the gate, but Kialandi noticed him mid-strut and froze.  
Jesse didn't notice, and was waiting patiently in line when there came a tap on his shoulder.

Jesse knew without turning that it was Kialandi.  
It'd have to be, anyone else would've called his name.  
Kialandi liked too disguise the fact he tormented those who were less fortunate than himself.  
The tap came again, only this time it was more like a consecutive pair of shoves.  
'Go to hell Kialandi, or bugger off, whichever takes the least amount of effort.' Said Jesse without turning.

Kialandi made a point of not hitting people in the back, unless they were running away.  
Jesse was well aware of this, so delighted in keeping his back to Kialandi when he needled him.

Kialandi pulled Jesse around and smiled evilly.  
'I don't know how you got here, as both the guards, and my friends have decided your lot aren't worthy of the honour of showing up, but I do know that now that _you_ are here, I'll enjoy shaming you when you fail the test.' Said Kialandi nastily.  
His beady brown eyes were alive with malice.  
'That's provided I fail and you succeed, any other way, and you look like a complete idiot.' Replied Jesse evenly.  
'You talk tough for a little boy with a _girl's_ name.' Said Kialandi evilly, knowing that it really pissed Jesse off.  
'Smarten up or go home, I'm not ruining my chances over a useless sack of manure like you.' Replied Jesse, he was purposefully remaining passive, hoping one of the Riders was watching, so Kialandi would get thrown out on his over-pampered rump.

A bang captured both rivals' attentions, and Kialandi quickly released Jesse, before pushing ahead of him in the line, as a handsome elf stood aside from the gate, and gestured for the those at the gate to enter.

As they filed in, a crowd of well-wishers parted, many wishing the aspirants luck, although a few scowled in disapproval at Jesse, mainly due to his threadbare clothes, his dirty, overlong hair, and his appearance in general.  
Those few who met his gaze, saw his grey-blue eyes burning with a desperate determination, and more than a few smiled sympathetically.  
Jesse just gazed ahead, acutely aware that his fate hung in the balance, and the knowledge was like a miniature sun polarized above the gate.

As he passed through into the citadel's courtyard, he was greeted by the site of an honour guard for the group: Two lines of knights in full parade ground regalia.  
As the gates closed behind the last of the aspirants,-a human girl with beautiful green eyes and brown hair,- the knights in the honour guard formed an escort, making sure that the aspirants didn't stray.  
After five minutes walking at ceremonial march pace, they entered the citadel's great hall.

It was a awe-inspiring sight: Along each wall, six dragons and their riders stood and watched on, completely motionless.  
And at the far end of the hall stood Master Dorian Staves, and his Dragon partner Seithrena.  
In all, thirteen dragons and thirteen riders stood around the hall, all watching impassively from around the hall.

The knights of the citadel stopped at the door and formed a human wall behind the aspirants, forbidden as they were from entering the hall during the ceremony.  
The doors boomed shut.  
Jesse fancied that he heard voices whispering in surprise to each other, but put it down to his imagination.

The aspirants stood at the door nervously, unsure of themselves.

All except Jesse, who knew perfectly well that nobody wanted him there, so was on his best behaviour, standing tall and strong, meeting the impassive stares of the assembled riders and dragons, with a determined gaze.  
Kialandi was at ease, confidant in his own superiority.  
Almost all the other aspirants were shifting around nervously, waiting for someone to ask or outline the test they were supposed to do.

The only exceptions were the girl who'd been the last in line, and a young man from the middle-class of Tierm, who was nervous, but fighting it.  
The girl was standing at the back of the group, behind Jesse, and waiting patiently.  
Kialandi sighed impatiently.  
Jesse heard more whispering, then it became more substantial.

_WHY DID YOU COME HERE, IF YOU KNEW YOU WEREN'T WANTED?_ A group of voices demanded of Jesse loudly, yet no sound was made.  
Jesse reeled mentally in shock, his thoughts scattered to the winds.  
As Jesse went to answer, he was stunned to see he couldn't do anything, and that his mind was being ransacked by the crowd of strangers.  
All this, while his senses told Jesse that everything was still peaceful and calm in the hall.

Jesse tried to fight back, and drive the interlopers out, but the sheer multitude of them forced him to his knees.  
He saw Kialandi look at him with contempt, and a spark of vicious pleasure appeared in his eyes.  
That was when Jesse got angry.

He struck out at his mental assailants and temporarily broke their grip on his mind, and forced himself upright, then lurched at Kialandi, with a look of madness in his eyes.  
Kialandi's eyes widened in surprise, then Jesse's mental assailants returned in force, and immobilised him, and grudgingly, and unwillingly, Jesse's arm fell to his side.

After what seemed like hours of the strange contact, an argument appeared to break out among the voices.  
_Underclass scum like this are not the sort that the riders need, we need noble warriors, not underhanded vagabonds!_ One voice appeared to be shouting at the others, and many others agreed.  
_And it is unfair on those who are disadvantaged to judge them on the misdeeds they committed to survive._ Retorted another voice in Jesse's head, and other's chorused their approval and support for the second speaker.  
_He defied those who were rightly his superiors, and struck out at them! _said one of the voices that had supported the first speaker.  
_He did what was morally right, and didn't care about the cost to himself, even though there was no possible way he could succeed, and how many aspirants do we come across that already know of the ancient language, outside of nobility? "Du Ilumëo Ko Du Sùndavar Freohr," "The Truth Is The Death Of The Shadows". You saw as well as the rest of us Dorian, that this boy knew the meaning of the phrase as well as you or I. _Replied another voice, but it was the voice of a woman this time.  
_And you'll take him as a student if one of the eggs hatches for him, eh? You'll see what I mean soon enough if that's the case._ The voice of Dorian shot back.

Jesse felt his anger rise at the prejudiced words of the Master of the Citadel's words, and he again cast off the mental confinement of the group and drew himself up in front of all the assembled riders and dragons, and made no attempt to hide his scowl, or who he was directing it at.

When the attack came again, Jesse was ready for it.  
_Who are you to judge me on what I had to do to support myself, to survive, without reducing myself to grovelling before the likes of the pampered _idiot _standing next too me?_ Demanded Jesse of the riders an instant before they subjugated his mind once more.  
_You see? He has no respect those who are his betters, even those who hold his very fate in their hands._ Said Dorian triumphantly, obviously thinking that the other riders would side with him after Jesse's protest.  
Instead, many of his former supporters sided with the second speaker, and the woman who'd vouched for Jesse.

An eternity of silence later, an actual, audible sigh came from Dorian.  
_Fine, let the urchin try, but as he is here without invitation, I have one request: he only have one chance.  
_Outrage broke out, and many of the riders and dragons stiffened as if they'd been struck.  
_Dorian, you're a prejudiced ass,_ but, _as you have the ear of Vrael, we shall concur._

**Well, I've finally got around to doing that long-anticipated edit.**

**Nothing too major, just correcting spelling mistakes and tightening up grammar, as well as altering some scenes, etc. to bring them in line with some of the revelations about Vroengard, the fall and some other facets of pre-fall Alagaësia.**

**Most notably, changing my description of Dorú Araeba to more closely match **_**Inheritance**_**.**

**(After all, you can hardly expect to fit a dragon as big as Belgabad on a one-mile-wide stalactite, as well as Paolini-only-knows how many other dragons).**

**And I might add a scene involving the Snalglí and Aragon and Thelduin's first encounter with them, just for laughs.**

**This edit might take a while, so I'll put a note at the end of each chapter saying so.**

**As always, reviews and constructive criticism is welcome.**

**No One-liners!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The Choice of Jesse O'Malley

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance cycle, but any characters that are original belong too me.**

**Oh, and I better warn you all, I'm not afraid to use coarse, and occasionally highly inventive swearing as a writing tool.**

**Not to mention blood, guts and gore.**

The riders withdrew from Jesse's mind, and he regained mobility once more.  
He let out a shaky breath, although he didn't smile.  
He quite agreed with the female rider who'd stood up to Dorian: Dorian was a complete bastard, and a prejudiced ass.

Jesse relaxed slightly, confident that he'd just passed through the fire in terms of the 'test', and come out the other side.  
He watched, as one at a time, the others assembled underwent the test, often with entertaining results.  
He particularly enjoyed seeing all the cockiness, arrogance, self-importance, swagger, and colour drain from Kialandi under the impassive stares of the riders.  
It was practically the best thing he'd seen in his fifteen years.

The girl stiffened when the riders entered her mind, and her pupils contracted in fear, but it passed, and when the riders finished examining her, she sagged visibly.  
Jesse nearly went to support her, but Kialandi beat him to it.  
Jesse mentally pictured the elf being torn apart by an urgal war-band, which cheered him up.  
It cheered him even more when the sleazy smile on Kialandi's face was wiped off by a few choice words from the girl that Jesse didn't catch.

When finally the test was over, the riders came to life, calling names.  
'Jesse O'Malley, Sarah Coburg, Kialandi Aldmer, Jarren Miles, step forward.' Intoned Dorian sonorously.  
The four complied.  
'The rest of you, will be escorted out by the knights of the citadel, you have failed our test, and are oath-bound not to reveal the nature of the test to any who ask; Remember what we told you, and feel free to try next year. Enjoy the festivities.' Said one of the riders who'd supported Jesse's inclusion, in a neutral tone, that resonated with authority unchallengeable.

There were looks of bitterest disappointment on the faces of those who'd been rejected, and on a few were acceptance, these ones bowed to those assembled, before they were shown out, along with all the others.  
When the doors banged shut once more, the riders relaxed their impassive stances, and more than one let out relieved sighs, one of them, who appeared to be the youngest of the assembled, laughed shakily.  
Kialandi, the girl Sarah, and the other boy, Jarren, all looked elated.  
Jesse, felt cheated, but refrained from arguing his case, apparently Master Dorian was too influential a figure to be swayed.

Dorian stepped forward and regarded the four figures before him.  
'You may think that you have achieved something, passing this initial test, but the truth is, you've achieved nothing yet, now it is up to the unhatched dragons, it is their judgement, not ours you must pass.' Said Dorian, smirking smugly, as he raised his left hand, and sixteen pillars all at waist height to Jesse, formed out of the stone of the hall's floor.  
Jesse's eyebrows rose in awe, despite himself.  
_Will I be able to do that someday if I join the riders?_ Wondered Jesse silently.

A hidden door banged open at the opposite end of the hall to the four aspirants, and sixteen hooded figures filed in, each reverently bearing a dragon's egg the size of a large rock, but flawless, and perfectly ovaloid in shape.  
Jesse felt his chest tighten as the sixteen egg-bearers, placed their charges on the pedestals, and filed to the sides of the room, standing just in front of the riders, at the edges of the pillar-field.

'You may choose any egg you wish; if one egg doesn't hatch for you, move on too another, after you have returned the egg you just touched to it's pedestal.  
_Remember thief-boy, you only have one chance at this, if you touch an egg, even by accident, and it doesn't hatch for you, your chance will have been used, and you will be thrown out after the others._ Dorian said, with evident relish to Jesse.  
Jesse had to use all his self control to refrain from replying with _go to hell._

* * *

Jesse wandered through the forest of columns, careful not to approach any of the columns, until he felt absolutely sure about the egg atop it.  
His eyes kept returning to one in particular: A flint-grey egg with a pearly, sheen to it.

After he'd wandered past all the eggs twice, Jesse approached the silver-grey egg that kept drawing his attention, and reverently went too lay his hands upon it, when out of nowhere, came Kialandi, and bumped into Jesse, using the supposed clumsiness to disguise a shove at Jesse, which sent him staggering into another pillar, where Jesse tripped and slammed back first into the pillar, knocking the egg into Jesse's lap.  
Jesse could only watch in apoplectic, impotent rage, as Kialandi picked up the egg Jesse had been about to touch.  
Nothing happened.

Kialandi casually replaced the egg, then turned to the pillar Jesse had fallen against, and casually picked the purple egg, that hadn't hatched for Jesse, out of Jesse's lap, and shot him a malicious grin, as the purple egg cracked open in his hands, and a dragon the colour of lavender, the same shade as the egg, crawled out and into Kialandi's arms.  
Jesse got back up and tried to touch the grey egg, and his heart leapt as his hand came within a finger's-breadth of the egg's surface, only to have Dorian intercept his hand.

An equally malicious look was in Dorian's eyes, and that's when it hit Jesse that the Master of the Citadel had _told_ Kialandi to ruin Jesse's chances.  
'You bastard son of a bitch!' Hissed Jesse in fury.  
Dorian was unmoved, but Jesse didn't need telepathy to tell that Dorian was ecstatic.  
'You have used your chance, Jesse O'Malley, feel free to try again next year.' He said in the same sonorous tone that he'd used to call out he and the other three.

'That's not fair, Kialandi shoved Jesse into that pillar when he was about to touch that grey egg!' Said the girl, Sarah, in outrage, a sapphire and green dappled, dragon was cradled in her arms, and a Gedwëy Ignasia marked her left hand.  
'Yeah, you should be throwin' Kialandi out, not him!' Agreed Jarren indignantly. He cradled a mottled red, orange and yellow dragon in his arms, and he too, had a Gedwëy Ignasia, only his was on his right hand.

'Be silent!' Snapped Dorian fiercely, 'this boy showed up of his own volition, has been shown to be a thief, and has demonstrated that he will challenge all authority, such arrogance will not be tolerated, I gave him a chance, and it has been used, even if he had no choice in the matter, it is not the place of two initiates, barely two minutes into our order to question the decisions of a master, who has nearly three centuries of experience!' A blazing, manic light was in Dorian's eyes.

Jesse hung his head in despair.  
He'd been cheated! Cheated by a spiteful noble, and a prejudiced rider! His chance had passed him by.  
Then, Jesse's eyes alighted on the egg again.  
_Do it!_ Screamed something in Jesse's mind; It could have been one of the other riders, or one of the dragons, or it could've been the dragon in the egg, or even Jesse's own rebellious nature.  
It could have been all four.

Whichever it was, Jesse acted on it: He kneed Dorian in the groin, gave him a shove for good measure, which sent him reeling onto his back on the floor in shock and pain.  
Kialandi went to restrain Jesse, but Jesse was like a cornered, injured wolf: desperate, manic, and dangerous.  
He floored Kialandi with a punch that had all the force of Kialandi's own momentum, Jesse's shoulder, fury, desperation, and hatred behind it.  
The blow was so strong it lifted Kialandi clean off his feet and when he hit the ground, he went skidding a full three feet backwards; it also broke Kialandi's nose.

None of this registered to Jesse, as he sprinted past the writhing Dorian, past the limp and bloodied Kialandi, and reached the pillar as Dorian mastered his pain, and came to his feet, sword in hand.  
He was halfway to Jesse when he grabbed the egg with both hands.  
'No you don't you, callow, malformed, whoreson!' He roared, striking at Jesse from behind, but Jesse was beyond listening.  
Jesse O'Malley was buried under a torrent of desperation and adrenalin.

He rolled out of the way, displaying incredible reflexes, and Dorian's gold-yellow sword skated off the stone pillar.  
He turned snarling in fury to see Jesse, egg still clutched against his chest, in a crouch, eyes alive and attentive.  
Dorian lunged, but missed as Jesse rolled clear again-  
Right into Kialandi's waiting arms.  
The new rider kicked Jesse onto his back, and Dorian lunged for the third time, as Kialandi was set upon by Jarren Miles and Sarah Coburg who laid into Kialandi fists flying, and fury alive and burning.

Jesse went to scramble aside, but realised he'd never make it.  
Using the egg to protect himself from the murderous blade of Dorian's sword didn't even cross Jesse's mind, not because he knew the sword would cut through the egg like a knife through bread, but more because the thought of killing the dragon inside to save himself was repellent.  
Jesse just stared at the deranged rider and a calm acceptance came over him: If he was going to die in pursuit of his dream, so be it.

As Dorian brought his sword down in a murderous, two-handed blow that would disembowel Jesse from the torso down, an emerald-and-silver sword intercepted it and turned it aside.  
This was followed by a lightning fast punch to the solar plexus that knocked Dorian unconscious.  
Dorian's sword clattered to the ground, and Dorian himself fell backwards in a heap.

Jesse looked at his rescuer.  
She was, quite simply, _gorgeous_.

She was an elf with unblemished alabaster skin, long, silky black hair with a streak of purple along the left hand side,-an effect that Jesse assumed she'd used magic to achieve,- kind, and, it had to be said mischievous, blue eyes, and angled features.  
She was also, heavily armed.  
Along with the sword in her hand, she had at least six other, shorter knives on her person: Two long knives on her back, two boot knives, and two others at her belt.  
Also on her back was a short bow, and a quiverful of arrows with hawk feathered fletching.  
She was also wearing burnished silver elven plate armour.

'I think we can all agree that the Master of the Citadel was a long way out of line there, and deserved that.' Said the elven rider calmly as she sheathed her sword.  
Nobody agreed with her, but nobody disagreed either, deciding plausible deniability was the best course of action.

**This to has seen an edit, though it mightn't be too obvious if you haven't read **_**Inheritance**_**.**

**I used to have Kialandi's dragon as maroon, which I've changed to purple to match new info in **_**Inheritance.**_

**I already invoke poetic licence a fair bit with my stories, and I like to keep things canon-accurate.**

**Of course, thanks to Du Namar Aubodr, I can name the dragons of the Forsworn whatever I like.**

**No One-liners!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The Feast of Ascension

**Disclaimer: See Chapter Two**

The elven rider extended a hand to Jesse, who quickly lowered his eyes so it didn't look like he was staring, before taking the proffered hand.  
The rider helped Jesse to his feet, before turning to the assembled riders.  
'I think we can make Dorian's demand redundant, with natural ability like this one has, it's a disservice to us _not_ to take him.' Said the elven woman in her musical voice.  
This time all the riders and dragons voiced their approval.

Jesse looked down at the egg in his hands. He was rather disappointed too see it hadn't hatched.  
He went to return it, but stopped in shock when a squeak reverberated through him, followed by a resounding _crack!_, as a long, gently curving horn punctured the egg near the top, followed by the horn's twin a few seconds later.  
Jesse quickly placed the egg on the ground.  
All the riders and dragons present paid rapt attention if they were conscious, or not otherwise engaged.

(Jarren and Kialandi were still fighting, when the egg had cracked, Kialandi had looked up sharply, and Jarren had used the distraction to trip Kialandi up; Jarren was now straddling Kialandi and pummelling him with both fists, and one of the riders who was watching had come to break up the fight, but he was in no great hurry.)

A series of _thunks, _followed, but nothing happened.  
A few moments later, the dragon pushed it's horns out of the egg once more, and twisted.  
There was another loud _crack!_ and a large segment of the eggshell broke in a irregular shape, and the dragon pushed it's head out through the hole.  
Many of the riders gasped in surprise, Jesse's jaw dropped open in shock before he snapped it shut, equally as quick.

The dragon, was like no other that any of the assembled riders and dragons,-some of whom had travelled to lands across the sea and far too the east,- had never seen a dragon quite like it,-although the ones who'd been across the sea and into the east, and returned certainly had heard of dragons like it.

It was the same lustrous grey as the egg it had lain dormant in for so long, but it had a blue-green hue to it, as well as a silver lustre, which balanced it too the same shade as the egg.  
When compared to Jarren's, Sarah's, Kialandi's or any of the adult dragons around, it was striking just how different it was.

It was maybe half as long again as the other hatchling dragons, and had only the two long, gently curving, tapered horns growing from the top of it's brow, pointing backwards.  
Instead of a row of spikes, it had a mane of dark grey-blue fur growing from the middle of it's brow, all the way too it's feather-like tail-tip.  
It was more serpentine than the other dragons, who were looking at the hatchling curiously, while their riders simply stared.  
It also had a mane like a lion growing from just behind it's horns, down to the back of it's jaw.  
Its back feet were five toed, and akin to a falcons, while it's fore-claws were more like human hands, only a lethal looking talon sprouted from each finger tip in place of nails.  
Its tail began to thin about a third of the way to it's tip from it's hind legs, which aside from the raptor-like claws, were surprisingly humanoid.  
Its scales were small, and vaguely similar to the scales of a fish, and the scales of along it's underside were a slightly lighter shade of blue-green-grey as the rest of it.  
And, to the confusion, and surprise of all who were watching, it _did not possess wings at all!_

The little dragon licked the membrane off itself, then began too unsteadily walk around, quickly finding it's feet.  
It quickly sunk into Jesse's head that he _had_ been right with his selection of egg,-probably why Dorian and Kialandi had tried so hard to stop him from touching it.  
Jesse reached out touched the dragon's side with his right hand.

It felt to Jesse like he'd just been struck by a white hot bolt of lightning.  
A blinding instant of pain, that originated in his hand, and rampaged like wild fire through his body, before converging in his mind into a single, blinding point, before exploding outward in a shockwave.  
Jesse slumped backwards against a pillar, and looked dazed. Oddly, the little grey dragon had also collapsed.  
Alarmed, Jesse sat back up and reached for it, then stopped.

A line of four oblong growths of bone had appeared on the dragon's snout, the smallest was just behind it's nostrils, and they got gradually bigger until the largest one was just below it's eye-line, and between them, the oblong had lines of scales between them, showing that the growths were a darker blue-green-grey than the rest of the dragon. All of the growths were on the top of the dragon's snout, and didn't extend down to the sides of it's mouth.  
Similar growths had formed on the dragon's fore-legs: four equal sized, oblong growths had formed on the dragon's lower fore-legs, and a roughly oval one on each wrist from which four long, thin oblong's extended, roughly matching where the dragon's tendons were in it's fore-claws.

As Jesse watched, the little dragon stirred, and stood again shakily, supporting it's weight on it's fore-legs as well as it's back legs as it shook it's head as if to clear it.  
Then it did something no-one had expected: It stood on it's back legs, supporting some of it's weight on it's long tail, and sprang into the air, and flew awkwardly onto Jesse's shoulder, using it's tail to steer.  
It fell off Jesse's shoulder and squeaked in surprise, but Jesse caught it, only momentarily stunned at the wingless dragon's ability to fly.

'You are full of surprises, initiate O'Malley,' said a rider with a long, red-brown beard, rumbling voice, and scarred, muscled forearms, that he had crossed over his chest thoughtfully.  
Behind him stood a bulky crimson dragon.

'That egg has stubbornly refused to hatch for over a thousand years; consider yourself honoured initiate.' Said the elven rider who'd saved Jesse's life, who'd been joined by her emerald and silver dragon, it's scales were a soft green, that belied the strength of the dragon's scales, and reminded Jesse of the rich green growth that all plants put out in spring, while the silver ones reminded Aragon of the she-elf's armour.

…_Aragon…_ The voice was like that of a young girl, only slightly frightened.  
It was like a brush of down against the side of Jesse's ear.  
He ignored it.

A raging hunger gripped Jesse, it wasn't his own, but it did exacerbate his own hunger, and his stomach growled longingly.  
The sound surprised Jesse.  
The elf smiled in understanding. 'Now that all of you have been paired with a dragon, we will proceed to the feast waiting outside.' She said to Jesse, Jarren,-who sported a split eyebrow and cut lip,- Sarah,-who had blood trickling from her nose, but didn't seem to care,- and Kialandi, who'd come off worst in the fight, mainly due too Jarren pummelling him the way he had, he was sporting two black eyes, and a split eyebrow,- courtesy of Jarren, a split lip, and several scratches down his face,-courtesy of Sarah for the bloodied nose, and a badly broken nose that he'd received when Jesse had laid him out in the first place.

Two of the robed men who'd brought in the eggs, were in the process of putting Dorian in his saddle so Seithrena could fly him up to their quarters, and recover.

As they exited the hall, Jesse found himself beside Kialandi, who glared venomously at Jesse, with a look of pure hate, and malice.  
'You aren't worthy of the honour, slum-brat, I'll see you expelled from the riders yet.' Said Kialandi.  
Jesse smiled slyly. 'What was it like being beaten down by a pair of lower classers huh? A taste of your own medicine, so to speak, and by a girl especially?' Asked Jesse, not even trying to mask his satisfaction at the injuries that had been inflicted on Kialandi in the past hour.  
Kialandi snarled in anger, and his dragon partner bared it's fangs at Jesse.  
_You don't know what you signed up for, hatchling._ Jesse thought at the dragon, and Kialandi's eyes bulged in outrage, it was considered the height of rudeness to interfere with another's dragon, but Jesse was ignorant of the fact.  
'It's the truth.' Jesse shrugged.  
As Kialandi went to reply, the rider with the red-brown beard took Kialandi by the arm and walked him out of ear shot, but Jesse caught '-make more of a fool of yourself than you already have…', and drew his own conclusions.

He sighed and slumped his shoulders, and his dragon scurried onto them, and draped it's tail across them, while it sat on his right shoulder.  
When Jesse looked up, he saw that Jarren and Sarah had joined him.  
'Hello, thanks for your help back there, I appreciate it.' Said Jesse to both of them.  
Jarren shrugged. ''bout time someone punched some sense into that arsehole's thick head, and it might as well have been me.' He said casually. His dragon was lounging in his arms, surveying the world with a lazy interest.  
Sarah blushed light pink at Jesse's thanks. 'I'm the one who should be thanking you, Jesse O'Malley, you're the one who showed me that I should stand up for myself, and others.' She told him.

Jesse looked at her in confusion. 'I'm sorry?' He asked politely.  
Sarah smiled. 'You attacked Kialandi and his stooges when they cornered caught me in an alley two years ago, you bashed one of his friends over the head with a board, then you got in a fight with them, I'm sorry I didn't help you.' She added hanging her head.

Now Jesse remembered why she looked familiar.  
He'd last seen her running past one of Kialandi's unconscious friends, while Kialandi and two of his other friends kicked him repeatedly, after they'd got him on the ground.  
He winced at the memory, then shrugged. 'Forget about it, I wasn't about to let him do whatever with a girl he'd baled up for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.' Replied Jesse putting a reassuring hand on Sarah's shoulder.  
She permitted the contact until they came to the door, then when they opened, Jesse removed his hand, by unspoken consent.

* * *

They came to the gates to the citadel, and one of the riders threw them open, and the revellers outside flooded in, and took places at the four tables that were set in the courtyard.  
A fifth table, with seventeen places was perpendicular too the four other tables in the courtyard.  
All the riders took their places at the table, and the dragons settled themselves around the courtyard, where great steaming sides of roast meat had been set for them.  
At the rider's table, there was only fruit and vegetables, as per the custom of the riders.

As the feast went on, Jesse found himself finding out more about Jarren and Sarah.  
Jarren was the son of the shipmaster on the _Indomitable Spirit_, a rather famous vessel, mainly because it was a hybrid: It was one of the fastest trading galleons that Alagaësia had ever known, as well as a formidable combat vessel.  
Many a pirate had learned to their cost just how formidable the _Spirit_ was the hard way.  
Both Sarah and Jesse paid rapt attention as he detailed one trading trip to a foreign port.

'It was a lot like Tierm actually,' said Jarren through a mouthful of soup-laden bread.  
'The only real differences, were the clothing, and the fact that they're a _lot_ more religiously inclined than us.' He finished after he'd swallowed.  
'Sounds like an interesting place,' commented Jesse as he fed his dragon a piece of chicken off a plate a servant had brought him. 'Maybe I'll go explore this land after our training is finished.' He said as he took a large bite out of an apple he selected from a basket between the three of them.

Then it was Sarah's turn.  
She was the daughter of a smith and a seamstress, they weren't poor, but her parents preferred to live in the poorer parts of town, where rent was cheap.

Jesse shook his head in wonder. 'If you're that well off living in a poor part of town, you must have a helluva lot of hired muscle, otherwise you'd have thieves and robbers kickin' down your front door.' He said with a snort of laughter.  
Sarah shot him a charming smile. 'That's true, but father didn't stint on security: He's patched up our house over the years, and he's paid more than one magician handsomely to put wards around our house to discourage thieves.' She said with a laugh.  
'Besides, it isn't uncommon for mother to patch up the clothes of people who live in our part of town, or father to do metal work, so they wouldn't want to lose our favour, now would they?' She asked.  
Jesse shrugged. 'There's always one idiot in every crowd, usually jealous, or spiteful, who'll stuff everything up for everything else.' He said, with such sincerity that Jarren and Sarah looked at him.  
'What makes you say that?' Asked Jarren.  
Jesse shrugged. 'I've had experiences with louts like that.' He said casting a sideways glance too where Kialandi was silently eating his meal, not talking to anyone.

'So, what about you O'Malley? What's your story?' Asked Jarren, as he fed his dragon a piece of chicken off the plate that was between the three of them.  
Jesse shrugged. 'That's a damn good question, and the answer is, I never knew my parents, I got raised by the ward, but after I was accused of stealing something I didn't they threw me out, and I had to make my own way.' He said bitterly.  
Jarren whistled. 'That's rough, how long ago was that?' He asked.  
'About three years ago,' said Jesse scratching his chin.  
'Do you remember anything about your parents?' Asked Sarah.  
'No, all I got to remember them by was this,' Jesse pulled out an odd amulet from under his collar, it was pure silver, highly polished and carved in the shape of a flying dragon, coiled around a sword.

On the sword, was written: _Du Ilumëo Ko Du Sùndavar Freohr.  
_'What's it say?' Asked Sarah curiously as she stared at the intricately wrought amulet.  
'The Truth Is The Death Of The Shadows,' said Jesse calmly, 'I took this too one of the local mages, and he wanted to all but trade his shop for it, said that the inscription was from the Ancient Language, funnily enough, I knew what the engraving said pretty much from when it was given to me.' He said in a mystified tone.  
They lapsed into silence again, and focussed on feeding their dragon partners, who were looking around curiously at the courtyard, as well as all the revellers.

**The eagle-eyed among you might've noticed that the name of Jarren's father's ship has changed from **_**Dominus Draco**_** to **_**Indomitable Spirit**_**.**

**This is mainly for flavour reasons,-it just doesn't fit the context of Alagaësia.**

**I might resurrect the name in the future,-say in a crossover with Warhammer Fantasy or 40k,- but it just sounds a bit too Latin for this story.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The Book of the Riders

**Disclaimer: See chapter Two**

The three were snapped out of their reverie by a crystal-clear, ringing, note.  
They looked up, and saw the big rider who'd chastised Kialandi earlier.

'Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present too you all, the four newest members of our order.' He said in a gruff, clear voice, the sort of voice you found yourself listening too because the owner was normally shouting drinks at a pub.  
The crowd clapped, until the rider motioned for silence.

'The first of our new riders, is Jarren Miles, the son of Bastion Miles, captain of the _Indomitable Spirit._' Said the rider, and Jarren stood, his dragon jumped into his arms, and he stepped up beside the rider, and bowing low from the waist, rather theatrically.  
The crowd gave him a standing ovation, and he waved it off modestly.

The bearded rider motioned for quiet and the crowd settled.  
'Our second new rider, is Sarah Coburg, the daughter of Ismira and Markus Coburg.' Said the rider, and Sarah went and stood beside Jarren.  
The crowd clapped politely, but many of the poorer inhabitants of the city clapped loudly, and several cheered.

Again, the bearded rider motioned for quiet, while Sarah blushed, embarrassed at all the attention, and gave a small wave, as the crowd quieted again.  
'The third new rider, is Kialandi Aldmer, the son of the esteemed Davia Aldmer.' Said the rider, letting a note of distaste enter his tone, as Kialandi stood beside Sarah.  
There was polite applause from the crowd, and some louder applause from where the richer folk were seated, but the general populace were less enthusiastic about Kialandi joining the riders, as he was generally considered an utter bastard, and not much more that was pleasant.  
Kialandi inclined his head in acknowledgement of the recognition.

The applause died quickly, this time the big bearded rider didn't need to motion for silence.  
'The last of our new riders, but by no means the least, is Jesse O'Malley.' He said briefly, not elaborating further, as Jesse came and stood beside Kialandi, _'accidentally'_, standing on the nobles foot, making Kialandi wince.  
Many of the mid-class and upper class shouted in outrage, while the rest of the mid-class and all of the lower-class guests clapped and cheered, giving Jesse a standing ovation similar to what they'd given Jarren.  
Most of them didn't know him, but seeing a shabbily clothed youth, with dirty, overlong hair, who was obviously from the poorer parts of town gave the poorer populace hope that one day, their lives could change for the better as well.

Jesse smiled, bowed very low, and with a flourish that even the upper-class nobs had to admit was flattering, then parodied a salute to the crowd.  
This made the half of the mid-class who supported Jesse, and the lower-class applaud and cheer all the louder, while it silenced the rest of the mid-class who were with the upper-class.

The upper-class began to rant and rave all the louder, one in particular,-probably Davia Aldmer,- called for Jesse to be flogged and thrown out.  
Jesse smiled a wicked smile at the rich-class, who bayed even louder for Jesse's blood, which made the lower-class snigger.

Despite himself, the big rider smiled into his beard and chuckled, the boy could play a crowd as good as an elf could play a harp.  
'Alright, alright, settle down, he might be a bit rough around the edges, but he's up here, so that means he's got good in him; So shut up Davia!' The rider shouted the last bit, startling Davia in mid rant, and as Jesse had surmised, it was Davia who'd been calling for him to be flogged.  
The noble scowled and fell quiet, as the poorer folk laughed loudly.

The big rider motioned for quiet, and it fell, slowly, and punctured hear and there by sniggers, and bursts of merriment.  
'As of now, the feast of ascension is over for another year, we hope to see you all again next year, until then: Atra du evarìnya, and good night.' He finished as the knights of the citadel stepped forward to assist anyone to move who might've been reluctant, or too drunk to leave under their own power.

As the guests filed out, Jesse seemed to realise he was standing on Kialandi's foot, and leaning on that leg.  
Jesse stepped off with a sarcastic: 'Oh, sorry, I thought that that was a loose board.'  
The big rider said nothing, Kialandi was getting his come-uppance for being such an arse before joining the riders, he didn't do anything to stop it, because all the riders agreed Jesse knew where to draw the line.

* * *

When all the revellers were gone, the riders escorted their eight newest recruits back inside the citadel and into a small annex chamber, on a table was a thick, leather bound book.

One of the riders, a slightly short man, with short red hair, and sun-tanned, weather beaten skin, opened it to a page that was half blank.

'This is the Book of Names; Every rider, and every dragon that is paired with a rider, has their names written here, from Eragon the Scion, and Bid'Daum the Peacemaker, to the last initiates we inducted,-all have their names written here, and more than a few used this as an opportunity, and a great one: It is a chance to choose a name for yourself, a name that is yours, and only yours.' He said reverently, taking a quill and an ink bottle from a pouch on his belt.

'Who will be first?' Asked the rider, stepping aside.  
Jesse stepped forward, then hesitated.  
He shrugged then turned around. 'Ladies first, you go Sarah.' He said stepping aside, and allowing the girl too etch her name onto the paper.  
After a minute, she rose, and stepped aside, looking slightly self-conscious.

_Probably wondering if she picked the right name for her dragon-partner._ One of the riders told Jesse.  
Jesse reached out, hesitantly and replied:We_ pick our dragon's names?_ He asked thrown off-guard.  
The rider,-the man who'd opened the book, blinked in surprise. _Why, yes, young Jesse, they can't very well pick at the stage of mental acuity they have at that age, now can they?_ He asked. _Of course, many dragons choose their own when they're old enough and abandon the one they're given, but for the first few months it's convenient.  
_Jesse remained silent, resolving that he'd ask his dragon before deciding on a name.  
Jarren tapping Jesse's shoulder snapped Jesse out of his reverie.  
As he went to step past him, Kialandi knocked Jesse out of the way, and began scribbling his name in the book.  
_I'll shave him tonight, and glue that head of hair of his to his chest._ Thought Jesse angrily.  
Although he didn't notice, all the thirteen adult dragons, and several of the riders snickered in amusement.

When Kialandi had finished agonising over the Book of Names, and stepped aside, Jesse, and his dragon partner perched on his shoulder, stood before the book.  
Jesse knew how to write. Hell, to keep in practice with reading and writing, he often wrote his own stories, and, on more than one occasion, had taken to reading some of his better ones out to entertain acquaintances, and his few friends, even reading to crowds for money if he was desperate, and too wary of stealing something.  
He picked up the quill and thought hard.

One thing he was immediately sure of: There was not a snow flake's chance in hell, he was going to remain Jesse O'Malley.  
He thought for a moment.  
…_Aragon…_ The thought drifted into Jesse's head, like it had when he'd first picked up the dragon.  
Without hesitation, Jesse immediately wrote _'Aragon'_ on the line below where Kialandi had written _'Kialandì'_, Jesse noted that both Sarah and Jarren had kept their names the same.  
Jesse thought for a moment, then grinned, before adding '_The Grey_' to his name.

This done, Aragon the Grey turned his attention too the second column.  
Kialandì had written in this column: 'Khârn'.  
Sarah had written 'Marinæ'.  
Jarren had written 'Infernia'.

Aragon realised that the second column was for the names of their dragons.  
Aragon tapped the quill against his chin, then glanced at his dragon.  
_What do you think?_ He asked it.  
The dragon looked him straight in the eyes.  
Instead of the grey he'd been expecting, the dragon's eyes appeared… more human, and were a soft blue-green.

It cocked it's head and seemed to consider. _Fortune, Fortuna, or something along those lines._ Answered the dragon after a moment, it's voice was unmistakably female, and sounded youthful, but tempered with uncanny wisdom.  
Aragon blinked in surprise, and many of the riders looked at the little dragon sharply.  
She jumped off Aragon's shoulder, and flew up onto his head, coiling her tail around his skull, and surveyed all the riders looking at her.

After a moment, all the riders looked too the ground, and appeared to be deep in thought.  
Then a thought struck Aragon. 'What's the Ancient Language word for 'fortune'?' He asked the elf who'd saved his life.  
'Thelduin,' is the word for fortune, initiate Jesse,' she answered in her lilting accent.  
'It's Aragon the Grey now.' Replied Aragon as he wrote 'Thelduin,' in the column under 'Khârn'.

_Good choice, powerful, and descriptive, but how about a bit more flair? _Asked Thelduin after a moment.  
Aragon smiled, then asked: 'What is the word for 'Star?'  
It was the big rider who'd chastened Kialandì, who answered. 'The word for 'star', is 'Evar', if I remember correctly.' He said in his deep, rumbling voice.  
Aragon nodded, and wrote 'Evar-Skulblaka', to the end of 'Thelduin'.

_Thelduin Star-dragon? How's that sound?_ Aragon asked.  
Thelduin hummed in contentment. _I like it, it has style, but it isn't over stated, thank you._ She said, with gratitude.  
Aragon set down the quill and stood up.  
He sighed heavily and looked around at the assembled riders.  
'So, what next?' He asked eagerly.

**This chapter didn't see that heavy an edit.**

**Just some tweaking here and there to clarify the fact that Kialandì was an elf, and that dragons usually pick their own names when they're old enough to do so.**

**Also, I've based Thelduin on a picture on NeonDragonArt . com, so I'd just like to acknowledge J. "NeonDragon" Peffer, as the artist.**

**No One-liners!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The Road to Dorù Areaba

**Disclaimer: is in chapter two.**

Aragon shifted uncomfortably in his saddle for the umpteenth time.  
This was only his second time on a horse,-his first being the day before,-and, although his new master, Elmïra,-the elf who'd saved his life when Dorian had tried to kill him,- had assured Aragon that his horse wouldn't let him fall, unless he jumped off himself, Aragon couldn't help but feel apprehensive about riding.

* * *

After they'd all written their names in the Book, they'd each been assigned a room for the night.  
Aragon had slept peacefully, and undisturbed that night.  
For the first time in nearly three years, he surrendered himself fully to sleep, knowing, that for the first time in a long time, he was in safe hands.

Thelduin hadn't slept though.  
All night, Aragon dreamed of gazing out of the window, with his tail coiled around the bed head, gazing out the window at the heavens.  
Watching.  
Waiting.  
Reflecting.

As the first pale lights of dawn had streaked the sky, Aragon was awoken by Thelduin.  
_Wake up, dear-soul, it is a new day, and a new beginning. _She said.  
Aragon awoke, feeling completely refreshed.  
As he looked around, he saw a new set of clothes on a chair by the window.  
The clothes weren't there the night before.

_Care to explain?_ Enquired Aragon as he pulled on the new breeches.  
Thelduin returned to observing the sun-streaked twilight as she replied. _One of the servants put those there last night, while you slept, he meant neither you or I any trouble, so I didn't concern you with the fact._ She said, following an Albatross out too sea with her eyes.  
Aragon didn't pursue the matter, as his thoughts turned to other matters.

He was going to ask Thelduin what she thought would happen now, but he was interrupted by one of the servants.  
'Good, you're awake, Mistress Elmïra is waiting in the entrance hall for you, do not tarry, she doesn't take kindly to those who are lazy and slow.' Said the servant, then left.  
_Which one was Elmïra? We weren't told the names of the riders, aside from Dorian, but everyone around here knows him._ Aragon asked Thelduin, who flicked her tail lazily.  
_Elmira, saved your life yesterday, she also was tasked to find my rider by none other than Eragon the Scion himself._ Answered Thelduin calmly.  
Aragon froze.

'Why would an elven rider want me as an apprentice?' Asked Aragon aloud.  
Thelduin glanced at Aragon.  
_I don't think she would take you as an apprentice _just _yet, a master although Elmïra svit-kona is, she prefers to take an active roll in the riders instead of a passive teaching roll; If the Scion ordered her, then she would take an apprentice, but the Scion is the only one who she answers too._ Explained Thelduin calmly.  
_So what would she want with me then?_ Asked Aragon as he pulled on his shirt.  
_Well, if you'd hurry up you'd find out!_ Came Elmïra's irritated voice in Aragon's head.  
Aragon quickly buckled his belt, and pulled on the new pair of shoes beside the chair.  
Thelduin landed on his shoulder as he opened the door.

Behind the door was none other than Dorian, the Master of the Citadel.  
His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face was a mask.  
Aragon tensed, ready for a very one-sided fight, but it never came.  
'Good luck, initiate Aragon, may you achieve great good as a rider.' Said Dorian, then walked off.  
Aragon went to ask Thelduin what she'd thought of Dorian's over-night change of heart, then thought better of it as he remembered the elf waiting downstairs for him.

* * *

When Aragon finally came to the main hall, he was greeted by the sight of Elmïra and her dragon waiting for him, while Jarren and Sarah watched on.  
'Glad to see you finally decided to get up, initiate Aragon, now we can finally get going, come on you two, you're coming as well.' Said Elmïra motioning to Jarren and Sarah, who rose and fell into step with Aragon.  
'Where are we going?' Asked Aragon.  
'Wait 'til we've put some distance between us and the city, I don't want anyone to follow us.' Replied Elmïra briskly as she and her dragon strode out the doors, followed by Aragon, Jarren and Sarah.

In the courtyard, they were greeted by four horses, saddled and waiting.  
Jarren and Sarah mounted two chestnut horses, Sarah slightly less awkwardly than Jarren.

Aragon went over too a grey gelding, and attempted to copy Sarah's mounting technique.  
He only managed to fall off the other side of the horse.

Elmïra smiled, amused. 'Hold onto the pommel of the saddle, put your left foot in the left side stirrup, then haul yourself up and put your other foot in the other stirrup.' Explained Elmïra calmly, as Aragon clambered to his feet.  
This time when he tried it, he managed to stay in the saddle.

* * *

Aragon was snapped out of his reflection of the morning by Sarah.  
'So, where are we going then, Tierm is miles behind us now, so are you going to tell us or not?' Asked Sarah boldly.

Elmïra looked back from where she rode ahead of them, on her black mare. 'Although I am not yet formally the master of any of you, while we travel together, you will address me as 'mistress' in this language, or 'ebrithä' in the ancient language.' She said sternly. 'Likewise, you will address Teclian as 'master' or 'ebrithil'.' She added in a tone that broached no complaint.

There was silence for a good few minutes, then Aragon asked. 'Ebrithä, where are we going?'  
Elmïra glanced at Aragon approvingly. 'You catch on quick Aragon, we're taking the scenic route too Dorù Areaba, apparently all three of you are to learn from the best.' Said Elmïra in an odd tone.  
'How far mistress?' Asked Jarren, as he tore his gaze from the pristine blue waters of the sea on their left.  
'Four days ride to the trading city of Narda, then we take a boat to the island from there.' Answered Elmïra briefly.

Jarren looked thoughtful. 'If we hurry, we might be able to catch my father and the _Spirit,_ and save ourselves the coin.' Mused Jarren aloud.  
'Initiative, and practicality, very good young Jarren,' said Elmïra brightly, 'how long must we cut off our time to catch your father?' She asked a moment later.  
'A day, I can just make out the _Spirit_ a bit further out there.' Jarren gestured off to the left, pointing to a tiny smudge on the horizon.  
'Good eye.' Commented Aragon, shading his eyes and squinting at the ship.

A hard hour's riding at a steady canter later, Elmïra began quizzing the three about their knowledge of the riders, dragons, Alagaësia, the various inhabitants of Alagaësia, foreign lands, and various other things, ranging from crafts like weaving, through to swordcraft and sailing.  
They were each expected to answer the question themselves, and a good deal of the time they were ignorant of something.

At times like these, Elmïra gave a brief summary of what the actual answer was, or what had actually happened, regarding questions of history.  
To the surprise of all but Aragon, he got many of the questions regarding Alagaësia, it's inhabitants, and foreign lands correct.

'How the bloody hell could you have heard of Summersea Port?' Asked Jarren in shock, after Elmïra asked after the capital of a distant country called Emelan. 'It isn't shown on any maps, and to my knowledge, Dad's the only captain from Alagaësia to sail that far Nor-west.'  
Aragon grinned. 'Well, you're right, the bloke I heard this off of was a foreigner, I think he was from directly west across the sea, but I forgot to ask him exactly where he was from.' He said modestly.  
_Take some pride in your knowledge once in a while Dear-soul, it won't kill you._ Said Thelduin to Aragon half-asleep from one of Aragon's empty saddle-bags.

'Good you two, Summersea is indeed the capital of Emelan, and good memory Aragon, good to see that what they taught you in that orphanage didn't fall on deaf ears.' Said Elmïra in a neutrally approving tone.

* * *

They rode through the sunset, and well past when the moon rose. Finally though, Elmïra conceded that the three novice riders needed to rest, so she called a halt.  
Jarren began stacking kindling for a fire.  
'No, Jarren, no fire, there are urgals, and worse that haunt the roads close to the mountains.' Said Elmïra warningly.  
'Then what about-?' Sarah broke off as Elmïra continued.  
'We'll eat cold food, until we reach Dorù Areaba, there, we won't have to worry about urgals, shades, or-' she broke off as a hiss sounded from the darkness.

**The only thing I changed here was the time taken to get to Narda, mainly because originally I had this little band going from Tierm to Narda in three days, which is a little far fetched whichever way you slice it.**

**No One-liners!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Of Ra' zac and Magic

**Disclaimer: See Chapter Two**

Elmïra drew her sword, and motioned for the initiates to stay together.  
Jarren drew a dagger from his belt, and Aragon drew what looked like a solid spike, as well as two daggers.  
'Risa.' Said Aragon tersely, and the spike drifted apart into ten separate blades, and began to orbit around him, gently rotating as they did.  
Everyone looked at Aragon in confused shock.  
Then snapped back to attention as a brown-black carapaced monster, nearly eight feet tall, with a bulging physique, hooked hands, that ended in talons, a savage beak with a lolling purple tongue, and massive, lidless, reflective eyes, black as a demon's soul, charged the three initiates.

'Jierda Ilumë!' Shouted Elmïra, and the flock of blades around Aragon struck the brute, perforating it in dozens of places, and spattering the ground around it with slick, oxidised-copper coloured blood. Another creature, twin to the one that Elmïra had killed, loomed behind the rider, and swept her aside, before she could turn.  
Sarah cowered back in terror, and even Jarren, who'd fought pirates in the middle of the Tempest sea west of Alagaësia, stepped backwards.

Aragon stood transfixed in fear as the creature advanced, reaching for him. It towered over Aragon, and although Aragon's mind,-and Thelduin,-screamed for him to run, Aragon couldn't move. He felt lethargic, not even able to muster the will to activate the tele-blades he'd summoned only moments before.  
Elmïra had been knocked unconscious by the brute's surprise attack, and it now had the three initiates almost at it's mercy.

The beast paused, and seemed to consider Aragon.  
Then, with one taloned hand it lifted him off the ground by the throat, and tightened it's grip.  
Aragon saw spiked stars of pain, as the creature tried to crush his neck.  
As Aragon's vision became rimmed with black, and had faded to red, Thelduin sprang from his saddle-bags, and buried her fangs in the nape of the creature's thick neck.

Aragon dropped too the ground gasping, then staggered to his feet as Thelduin harassed the creature, keeping it distracted.  
'Risa!' Commanded Aragon firmly, and the flock of tele-blades that had fallen too the ground when Elmïra had been knocked out, rose into the air with deadly purpose.  
Finally, the creature managed to get a grip around Thelduin, and Aragon gasped in sympathetic pain at the creature's grip.  
A irresistible force of desperation built within Aragon, then he shouted in a desperate bid to save his partner: 'Jierda Ilumë!' Repeating the spell Elmïra had used.  
The flock of blades shot at the creature, and when they struck, they didn't just perforate the beast, they ripped chunks out of it when they exited, reducing it too a blue-green hunk of goo.

Aragon slumped, exhausted to the ground, and the tele-blades resumed their orbit above him.  
'Letta.' Commanded a dazed Elmïra as she walked over.  
Aragon looked up at the she-elf with hollow eyes. 'What were those things?' He croaked.  
Elmïra didn't answer.  
As Aragon finally gave in to unconsciousness, he saw Jarren and Sarah rush to saddle the horses.

* * *

When Aragon awoke, it was bright as a summer afternoon, but he could hear the distinctive sound of rain on rock.  
Slowly, and groggily, Aragon sat up off the rock where he lay.  
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he beheld was a solid field of green, that stretched from above his head to the rocky floor.

_Thelduin? Where are we?_ Aragon mentally called.  
_We're in a cave, about thirty miles from where those things attacked us, Elmïra thought it would be a wise idea to move on a ways, in case there were anymore. _Explained Thelduin, she sounded weary to Aragon, but he couldn't think of why she would be.  
Aragon thought for a moment, then realised what the green field was.  
'Master?' Asked Aragon hesitantly.  
Teclian lazily raised his wing, and Aragon crawled from beside his moss coloured bulk.

A small fire blazed on the cave floor, and a bright, glowing crystal lit the cavern.  
Outside the cave,-which was large enough to house the three humans, a large dragon, an elf and four horses, as well as the fire comfortably,-it was raining heavily, and as Aragon listened, thunder roared, and echoed off the mountains, above the distant crashing of the waves.

Elmïra, Jarren and Sarah sat around the fire.  
Infernia and Marinæ were asleep beside their riders.  
Thelduin was resting on a rock propping her snout on the back of one foreclaw.

Teclian folded his wing as Aragon took his place around the fire, aware of Elmïra unreadable gaze upon him.  
'What were those creatures mistress?' Asked Aragon in a coarse voice; His throat was burning, but he wouldn't admit it.  
There was silence for a long moment. 'I will not speak of such creatures this night, and besides, I'm more concerned with you right now, Aragon-vodhr.' Said Elmïra gently.  
'Me? I'm fine, honestly,' croaked Aragon.  
Elmïra's mouth flickered the ghost of a smile. 'I healed your throat as much as I dared before, it still needs a little more work though.' She said.  
Jarren went to pass Aragon a bowl of stew, but Elmïra waved him aside, and placed a soft hand on Aragon's throat.  
'Heíll.' She said quietly, and a cool, soothing feeling washed through Aragon as the abused tissue of his throat healed.  
'Thank you, ebrithä.' Said Aragon gratefully.

Jarren handed Aragon the bowl of stew, and Aragon began to sate his hunger.  
Elmïra sighed, and examined the once more solid spike that Aragon had used in the fight with the two creatures. 'Aragon, how did you come by these? I have only seen these weapons used by Dragon Riders who spend _years _studying the arts of magic, and never by anyone who hasn't set foot on Vroengard.'  
Aragon looked at the tele-blades in Elmïra's hand and shrugged. 'I got those off a wizard I met in the Green Chestnut once, he gave them to me, along with my knives, and a few basic lessons in telepathy, after I agreed to let him examine this,' Aragon fished out his silver amulet.  
'May I?' Asked Elmïra, and took the amulet when Aragon waved her ahead, and went back to eating.  
Elmïra peered closely at the amulet, noting the Liduen Kvaedhì symbols engraved on the tiny sword blade, then casting several spells of divining on the amulet.  
When she was finished, she sighed, and passed the amulet back to Aragon.

'A complex enigma you are Aragon, that amulet has spells against scrying worked into it, along with a blessing to bring luck to the wearer and protect them from evil, and, interestingly, those enchantments are powered by a tiny diamond inside the pendant, that is positively _radiating_ strength, how did you came to inherit such a trinket?' Asked Elmïra curiously.  
Aragon swallowed a mouthful of stew. 'I don't know, I never knew my parents, and the governors of the ward I grew up in never told me, although, I did here one of 'em say that he found me as a baby, outside Tierm's walls one morning when he was out walking, wrapped in an old blanket, with that pendant 'round my neck.' Recounted Aragon.  
'Well, how long have you been able to work spells then?' Asked Elmïra calmly.

Aragon ladled himself another bowl of stew. 'I've never been able to work magic, the wizard I got those 'blades off of just told me that the word 'rise', in the ancient language, the 'blades would activate, and the word for 'hit' or 'strike', they'd go after whatever target I was thinking of, or gestured too.' He answered, before starting on his stew again.  
'That wasn't what you said back when were staring down that brute-of-a-thing though.' Pointed out Sarah, who seemed to be sulking about something.  
'Did you feel anything when you killed that other beast?' Pressed Elmïra sternly.

Aragon paused and thought for a moment. 'Yeah, I did actually, when that thing grabbed Thelduin, I felt a burst of pain in my side, then this sense of desperate energy, like when Dorian tried to kill me.' Said Aragon slowly.  
Elmïra nodded and thought in silence for a moment.

Jarren held out his hand to Aragon.  
'What?' Asked Aragon curiously.  
'You saved our lives back there,' stated Jarren calmly.  
'I couldn't very well run away could I?' Replied Aragon modestly, 'what kind of a rider would I be if I did?'  
'Still, you've got me as a friend mate, you ever need someone to watch your back, or anything, I'll be there.' Said Jarren seriously.  
'Me too,' said Sarah coming over, and holding out her hand.  
'Glad to have you as friends, 'cause I'd sure as hell hate to have you as enemies' Said Aragon, grasping forearms just below the elbow with each of them.

Elmïra nodded sharply and looked back up.  
'I don't know how you discovered magic so quickly, most initiates discover it by accident during their apprenticeships, but, you must not try and discover more about it, until your teacher,-whoever that person ends up being,-deems you ready to study magic.' Said Elmïra, after gaining Aragon's attention once more.  
'I know the basics, how magic burns up more energy over distance, not to attempt to scry the future, not to try and bring back the dead, know my limits, and all that stuff, why not teach me yourself, and save everyone at Vroengard the time?' Enquired Aragon.

Elmïra sighed, and Teclian answered for her. _Because, Aragon the Grey, if you attempt a task you aren't strong enough for, you will die, and you fail to grasp the subtler, and more dangerous aspects of magic, if you cannot comprehend these, then you could make one minor error in a spell, and kill yourself. _That _is why you must wait until whoever ends up teaching you deems you are ready._ Explained Teclian in his rumbling voice, the fact that he stared Aragon directly in the eyes when he said it made Aragon take heed. Teclian's eyes seemed to glow with shifting green fire, they were mesmerising.  
Which was the exact reason Teclian had stared at Aragon in the first place.  
'I _know_ you made me heed that using hypnotism, master.' Said Aragon shaking his head and rubbing his eyes in a vain attempt to rid himself of the after-image of Teclian's glare.  
Teclian chuckled, and the sound was like a pair of mountains grinding against one another. _And I know that you knew I was using hypnotism to get the point across._ He said with a hint of amusement.

_Behave Aragon, Elmïra saved my life after that thing grabbed me._ Said Thelduin warningly.  
Aragon's gaze shot to Elmïra who was already looking at him. 'I take it that your dragon just informed you that I saved her life.' Elmïra said quietly.  
'Yeah, but why did she need saving?' Asked Aragon in concern.  
_Because when the shade-spawn caught hold of Thelduin, it's grip broke her back. She is lucky to be alive._ Explained Teclian seriously.

Aragon's eyes widened in horror. 'Is she alright?' Demanded Aragon.  
Thelduin crawled from her rock next too Elmïra, and walked over too Aragon.  
_I am alright now, dear-soul-friend, I am a little sore, but I am alive; partly because of you, partly because of Elmïra's knowledge of healing._ Said Thelduin as she curled up in Aragon's lap.  
_I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let that thing touch you in the first place, its my fault you got hurt._ Said Aragon guiltily and regretfully.  
_It wasn't your fault._ Replied Thelduin gently.

* * *

That night, as Aragon laid awake, he listened to the storm outside.  
He was trying to sleep, but he couldn't shake visions of hulking, insectoid-humanoid demons, with vicious beaks.  
A flash of lightning illuminated the sea-plain below.

Aragon sat up, as the lightning faded, with a silver bladed dagger in hand.  
He could've sworn he'd seen other, similar figures scuttling across the plain.  
He shivered, and laid back down, but didn't sheath the knife.

As he lay there, he became aware of someone crying, when he sat back up and looked around, he saw someone hunched over the fire, with their arms around their knees, watching the glowing coals of the fire, as he watched, the figure wiped it's eyes, and then sniffled.  
Briefly, Aragon wondered why he couldn't make out who it was, then he remembered that Elmïra had cast a ward on the cave entrance to ward off all of evil intent, as well as the creatures of the night, before stowing the light crystal she'd used to illuminate the cave in Teclian's saddlebags.

Another flash of lightning revealed it to be Sarah.  
Aragon rolled out of his blankets, leaving Thelduin to sleep, and went and sat by the girl.  
'What are you doing up?' Asked Aragon as he sat down.  
Sarah looked sideways at Aragon, who noted that her eyes were red from crying.  
'You wouldn't understand.' She said in a peculiar tone.  
'Try me, I mightn't be the sharpest weapon on the rack, but you'd be surprised.' Said Aragon, poking the coals, and laying a piece of wood on them.  
Sarah sighed and faced Aragon. 'When that second demon-thing hit Elmïra and came after us, I froze up, I just tried to hide, I was useless the whole way through.' Said Sarah with self-loathing, and dropped her gaze, ashamed.

Aragon lifted her chin until they were looking at each other. 'Don't be so hard on yourself, you didn't run, and you stood with Jarren and me when that first thing came out of the dark, anyone else would've run, any other girl would've run, but you didn't, and I couldn't do anything either when that second thing grabbed me.'  
Sarah looked at the fire again and refused to meet Aragon's gaze. 'If it makes you feel any better, you're the bravest girl I know.' Said Aragon, when Sarah realised he was still looking at her. She smiled, and embraced him warmly.  
Aragon hugged her back, comforting her, and reassuring her, and found that his own fears were allayed by the girl's presence.  
'Thank you Aragon,' said Sarah softly, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

They sat there for a while, in quiet companionship, watching the fire, and eventually Sarah laid her head on Aragon's shoulder.  
A few moments later, she was asleep.  
Aragon gently laid her down, and put a blanket over her, before wearily collapsing beside her.

* * *

When Elmïra awoke the next morning, and Teclian raised his wing to allow her to rise, the first thing she saw, was Aragon and Sarah sleeping beside the fire.  
Elmïra smiled slightly to herself as she saw the two, and felt a pang of loneliness, despite Teclian laying behind her.

Shaking the dreary thoughts aside, Elmïra roughly threw a few pieces of wood on the coals of the fire, and placed a pot of water on the coals to heat, before waking Aragon and Sarah quietly.  
When everyone was awake, they ate and packed quickly, and by the time the sun was about to rise, they were on their way, Teclian flying close by, watchful, but for what only he and Elmïra knew.

* * *

Several hours of riding later, filled with talk of the riders, dragons, the races of Alagaësia, Aragon worked up the courage to bring up what had been bothering them all since the night before.  
'What were those things that attacked us last night, ebrithä?' He asked curiously.

Elmïra stiffened, and her hand was white-knuckled on her sword hilt. 'The creatures that attacked us last night, were like no other type of creature, fair, foul, or otherwise, that stalks this world,' she said, in a strained tone.  
'But what are they?' Persisted Jarren.

'They're creatures that prey on humans like wolves would prey on herds of deer or flocks of sheep, they are called the Ra'zac by the elves, but what they are truly called is a mystery.' Replied Elmïra hesitantly.  
Aragon shivered. The very name was evil.

'In all areas where humans are weak, they are strong,' continued Elmïra, 'they're stronger, and faster than humans, they can see clearly on dark or cloudy nights, track a scent like a blood-hound, and their foul breath can cause a debilitating stupor in even the strongest of men, and, they are telepathically undetectable. However, they are mortally afraid of deep water, they can't swim, nor can they use magic, and they prefer not to venture out during the daylight, because bright light pains them, although it won't stop them if they're determined, they're also capable of speech somehow, and when they do hunt close to settlements, they usually clothe themselves in black robes, with deep cowls that hide their features. If they know you hunt them, they will hide in the shadows, where they are strong, and plot to ambush you. Terrifying? Evil? The Ra'zac are both beyond a shadow of a doubt. Demonic? I wouldn't be surprised.'

Aragon gave a shaky chuckle. 'Well, at least they can't use magic.' He said.  
Elmïra cast a glance at Aragon. 'The Ra'zac are only the young forms of a more terrifying evil though.' She said seriously.  
'Say what?' Asked Jarren sharply.

'The Ra'zac are the spawn of dragon-like creatures called Lethrblaka, when they first hatch, the young, or pupae grow a black exoskeleton that is a grotesque imitation of the human form, although I prefer to consider it as a horrid mockery, either way, it is convincing enough for the Ra'zac to their victims without causing undue alarm. They remain pupae for twenty years while they mature; The two we ran into last night must've been about nineteen and a half, by the size of them. On the first full moon of their twentieth year, they shed their exoskeletons, and spread their wings as adults, ready to hunt all creatures, not only humans. The Ra'zac are narrow-minded but cunning, but the Lethrblaka they turn into, have all the intelligence of a dragon; a cruel, vicious, twisted and evil dragon.' Explained Elmïra with a note of revulsion evident in her voice. 'Also, a few riders who've made it their life's work to hunt these nightmares to extinction believe that it might be possible for the Ra'zac to put off the transformation into Lethrblaka indefinitely, but there's no evidence that could be called reliable.' Added Elmïra to the stunned silence.

* * *

They rode hard in silence all day, making it within sight of Narda's walls as the sun began to descend.

Teclian, who'd flown above the group since they started off before dawn, veered away to the north-west, heading to Vroengard ahead of them. Elmïra and her charges, picked up the pace, and reached the gates just as they were closing for the night.  
They left their horses in the care of the stables at the city's keep, and made their way to the wharfs, where the _Indomitable_ _Spirit_ was docked.

**Not much changed here.**

**I just tightened up some rather shaky sentences, grammar and the like.**

**No One-Liners.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Across The Vroengard Channel

**Disclaimer: See Chapter Two**

Teclian landed gracefully in a huge cave high on the slopes of the volcano that dominated the island of Vroengard.  
A gigantic dragon of pure white already rested curled up beside an elf with black hair, who was studying an ancient scroll, with a frown on his face.  
Teclian inclined his head to the old rider, and waited.

'Rise Teclian, it must've been a long flight from Tierm, and I will not keep you from your rest, but tell me, what of the coming of the Grey Rider?' Asked the old rider.  
_The egg hatched, for a street urchin called Jesse O'Malley, the boy has taken the name 'Aragon the Grey' though. However, I do not think he is the one you seek, master._ Said Teclian slowly, giving his opinion on the boy as was his way.  
The rider was silent for a moment, he turned and faced Teclian and examined him with dark eyes.  
'No, she has made her choice after nearly a thousand years; Either she knows something I don't, or she saw something in this one, which I think is more likely, because I warned her against choosing a rider simply to escape the confines of her egg.' Said the rider gravely.  
_Does this mean…that the time of the Betrayal is nearly upon us?_ Asked Teclian with dread.  
'Maybe, it's possible, but I'm no seer. I'll look into it, but how far away is Elmïra and her charges?' Asked the rider.  
_They shall be hear soon._ Answered Teclian after a moment.

* * *

Aragon leaned on the railing at the bow of the _Indomitable Spirit,_ and regretted that their short trip across the Vroengard Channel was nearly at it's end.  
It had been fun, listening to Jarren, and his father, Bastion, give him and Sarah and Thelduin a detailed, and interesting rundown on how ships were run, then even more interesting accounts of stops at foreign ports, battling pirates on the high seas, and other adventures that were the province of seafarers and mariners.

'An interesting six hours, no?' Asked Elmïra as she came and leaned on the railing beside Aragon.  
Aragon looked at the growing bulk of Vroengard. They'd just entered one of the many sheltered coves that adorned the island's coast. 'I'll say, Jarren's lucky to have such a great father, and I never knew how eventful life at sea could be.' Aragon said at last, not looking at Elmïra.

They stood there in silence for a moment, and Aragon, despite his best efforts to try and keep his mind off of the beautiful elven lady next to him, couldn't help casting an admiring eye on her.  
The light of the full moon made her seem delicate as glass, but Aragon imagined that the truth was the exact opposite.  
Elmïra gave a small chuckle. 'If you do end up as my apprentice Aragon, the first thing I'm going to teach you, is how to guard against mindbreakers. Otherwise, I'll either end up with an inflated opinion of myself, or having to give you a good smack across the back of the head.' She said, facing Aragon, with an amused smile.

Aragon shook his head in a vain attempt not to dwell on the she-elf dragon rider's, magic given grace and beauty.  
In a more concerted effort to clear his head, Aragon asked: 'And what can I look forward to if I _do_ end up your apprentice?'  
Elmïra's smile grew wider, and the mischievous glint in her eye acquired a playful hint. 'Heaven's help me, but you'll probably get the crack across the skull anyway.' She teased.  
Aragon returned to staring at the imposing bulk of Vroengard.

Thelduin drifted down onto Aragon's shoulder.  
_You're fighting a lost battle dear-soul. _Noted Thelduin with amusement.  
_Trust me to get the hatchling that could think clearer than I can as soon as she hatched._ Reflected Aragon darkly.  
'That would be Eragon's fault.' Said Elmïra, obviously still hearing Aragon's thoughts.  
'What do you mean? And can you please stay out of my head?' Asked Aragon.

_One of the biggest advantages of staying inside an egg for a thousand years, fully aware of everything, is eventually, you learn to consciously touch the minds of others, _without _a rider, I learnt the skill a long time ago, and when Master Eragon found out, it was when he felt me brush his conscience. I think the surprise of it nearly killed him. _Explained Thelduin.  
'And so he figured he'd save some time and teach you things before you even hatched, right?' Queried Aragon.

'That's right,' confirmed Elmïra. 'And yes I can stay out of your head, but I can't help if I overhear things.' She added, answering Aragon's original question.  
'How long ago was that?' Aragon asked Thelduin curiously.

Thelduin flicked her feather-like tail-mane lazily. _About two hundred years ago, shortly before Eragon chose Elmïra to ferry my egg around._ She said, yawning wide, and revealing needle sharp teeth, and long, serrated fangs.  
Aragon blinked in surprise, but kept his peace, as the _Spirit_ docked at a weathered port outpost near the shore.

* * *

An hour later, walking up a well worn track, the small group came to a large smooth area. Ahead was a arduous looking climb to the peak of the island.  
'Please tell me we don't have to climb that.' Said Jarren faintly.  
'You don't, but you can if you want to.' Said Elmïra unconcerned.  
Aragon went to ask: '_what are we doing here?', _But broke off as a large archway,-easily big enough for three dragons Teclian's size to fit through side by side,- seemed to flow out of the stone.  
There was a loud _crack!_ and a portal opened in the archway.

'Come on, its perfectly safe.' Said Elmïra to the three apprentice riders, who eyed the portal warily.  
'You s-' Aragon began, but Thelduin wrapped her tail around his arm, and pulled him through, with surprising strength.

Aragon staggered as he came through the archway in the cave mouth, and pitched forward onto his chest.  
When he sat up, he saw that the cave was comfortably furnished, without being luxurious, and a fire burnt brightly in an open fireplace.  
Several halls burrowed deeper into the cave, most big enough for a large dragon to negotiate, while others were comparatively tiny, obviously meant for smaller beings.

Beside the fireplace, a figure sat, reading a delicate looking scroll.  
As Sarah and Jarren stepped through the portal, he looked up, and the archway that contained the portal sank into the ground.  
Thelduin flew lazily around Aragon's head a few times, then settled on his shoulder.  
_See? Perfectly safe._ Quipped Thelduin calmly.

'What the hell just happened?' Asked Jarren, looking around and examining the cavern.  
'All in good time, initiate Miles,' said Elmïra calmly, from the other side of the cavern.  
She had a chalice of wine in her hand, and was completely at ease.  
Aragon briefly wondered how she'd gotten there before them.

'Come over here, there's someone I'd like you all to meet.' Said Elmïra, taking a sip of wine, and taking a seat at a table near the fire.  
Warily, the three approached the seated figure, who was regarding them over steepled fingers.  
The figure was lithely built, but possessed an air of power that belied it.  
He had a hooked nose, a narrow chin, black hair, and deep blue eyes.  
His face was well tanned, and weather beaten, indications of a goodly amount of time on dragon-back.  
A spider web collection of fine lines at the corners of his eyes were the only sign that he might be older than he looked.  
And, Aragon noted, he was an elf.

**A note on the portal: It isn't an entirely original idea.  
****It's halfway based on the 'Veil' in **_**Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, **_**and halfway on a scenery piece featured in **_**White Dwarf Issue**_** 367.**

**This hasn't really seen that heavy an edit.**

**Just some stuff to better get an idea of the scale of things, and some other minor errors.**

**No One-liners!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Masters, Mistresses and Apprentices

**Disclaimer: See chapter two.**

The elf regarded the three initiates for a while, studying them with a steady gaze.  
The rider cocked his head, as though listening to something.  
'You've set me a very pretty problem, Aragon the Grey, discovering magic right from before your training has even officially begun.' Said the rider after a moment.

'Is it good, or bad?…Master.' Added Aragon remembering after a brief moment.  
The rider chuckled quietly. 'Normally, it would be a serious problem, but in your case, it is rather fortunate.' Answered the rider, 'but before we get into your training, or at least, the subject of it, I believe introductions are in order.' Said the rider, 'So, I'll start, I am Eragon the Scion, first amongst the riders.' Said Eragon calmly.  
Jarren and Sarah looked at Eragon sharply.

'It is an honour.' Said Aragon in an awed voice, averting his gaze. 'I am Aragon the Grey, of Tierm.' He said in a forced level voice.  
'I'm Jarren Miles.' Said Jarren simply.  
'And where do you herald from?' Asked Eragon.  
Jarren shrugged. 'I was born at sea.' He said casually, 'so you could say I'm from everywhere.'

Eragon nodded, 'an interesting philosophy,' he said, before turning his attention to Sarah.  
'And who might you be, young lady?' Eragon asked again.  
'Sarah Coburg, my lord, also of Tierm.' Said Sarah respectfully.  
'No need to be so formal, all riders defer only to Vrael, and you need only use 'master' or 'mistress', for your teachers.' Admonished Eragon.

_You should know master, that my name is Thelduin Evar-Skulblaka, or Thelduin Star-Dragon._ Said Thelduin to Eragon.  
'You're telepathy has strengthened with the joining, Thelduin, I am impressed.' Said Eragon calmly,-the two had obviously spoken before.

Eragon pulled a rune-etched wand from a hidden pocket in his left sleeve.  
He gave the wand a small flick, and four mugs, and a pot of blueberry tea materialised in mid air, and hung there.  
Elmïra looked slightly unnerved by the strange magic, but didn't say anything.  
Eragon poured himself, and the three initiates a mug of the brew, and passed them out, then with another flick of his wand, lowered the pot to the ground.

'How did you do that?' Asked Jarren curiously.  
Eragon looked at the wand fondly. 'I acquired this during my travels.' He said calmly.  
Elmïra snorted. 'Eragon made that wand himself, during his wanderings through space and time.' She said shortly.

'What?' Said Aragon in shock, 'if it's impossible to bring others back from the dead, how is it possible to go to the afterlife, and return without dying?' He asked.  
Eragon laughed in genuine amusement. 'Afterlife? Dear me, no, I've never been to the afterlife, it was a parallel world, to ours.' He explained.  
'Parallel-?'  
'World, yes.' Answered Eragon before Jarren could finish.  
'How is that possible?' Whispered Sarah.

'Well, after many years study, Bid'Daum and myself managed to devise a spell, that by which we could transport ourselves anywhere in Alagaësia instantly without killing ourselves, but there was a drawback: the spell had to be contained, otherwise there was no telling where you might end up, Bid'Daum and myself found that out the hard way, we got dragged through several, distinctly different dimensions, and in one of them, we got dragged into several very different stages of it's history, until in the most terrible one of them, which was that world's distant future, I managed to barter my way back home, in return for teaching a seer, who's name I can't reveal, how to use our brand of magic.' Said Eragon, 'It was him who deduced that if I wanted the spell to work properly, it had to be contained, so, when Bid'Daum and myself returned here, after a stint of rest, we fashioned great arches of stone, and spelled them to send us to where ever we wanted to go.' Finished Eragon, taking a sip of his tea.

Aragon sat back, numb, it was just too outlandish to be true.  
'Enough on that, it's time I introduced your new teachers.' Said Eragon.  
Aragon swallowed nervously.  
After his encounter with Dorian Staves back in Tierm, he was wary of any other riders who bore the status of master.

'Aragon,' said Eragon casually, 'you are to study under Elmïra.' He said.  
Aragon let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.  
Then glanced up. Elmïra was giving him a level look.  
'This isn't going to be pleasant.' She informed him.  
Aragon shrugged. 'It never crossed my mind that it'd be anything but, ebrithä.' He said.

Eragon cleared his throat.  
Aragon faced towards the elf again.  
'Sarah, Jarren, I think it best if you two study under me.' Said Eragon quietly.  
Jarren's mouth fell open in shock.  
'_What?_' Said Sarah in shocked awe.

Aragon couldn't help but feel envious of his two friends:  
They got to train under perhaps the most well known, powerful and famous rider ever: Eragon the Scion, a living legend from the time before humans had come across the sea.  
Elmïra sighed, and drank the last of her wine, paused for a second, then walked past Aragon.  
'Come on, Aragon the Grey,' she said wearily, 'I don't know about you, but I'd like to sleep in an actual bed tonight, and tomorrow is going to be eventful for you to say the least.' She said.

Eragon nodded. 'You two best be off to sleep as well, it'll be an eventful day for you tomorrow,' the old elf advised.  
Aragon nodded goodnight to Sarah and Jarren as Teclian stalked out of the left-hand giant passage, and joined Elmïra.  
Elmïra jumped nimbly onto Teclian's back,-a good three metres off the ground, then motioned for Aragon to follow.  
Aragon hesitated, and glanced at Teclian.  
_Come on hatchling, I wish to get at least some rest this night._ Said the old dragon, grumpily and Aragon immediately clambered up Teclian's massive left foreleg, and behind Elmïra, who quickly showed him how to buckle his legs to Teclian's saddle.

No sooner than Aragon had finished, and Thelduin had nestled herself into Aragon's shirt, than Aragon felt Teclian coil for a split second, then his stomach was left in the cave mouth, as Teclian jumped into the air, and dropped sickeningly for several seconds before he beat his massive wings, and gained altitude.  
Thelduin whooped inside Aragon's mind, and he could feel her enthusiasm for flying, and her resentment that she was not yet big enough to fly alongside the colossal Teclian without being swept aside by the gusts of wind his wings created, or left behind.

_Cheer up Thelduin, we start our training tomorrow._ Said Aragon happily to his dragon.  
Thelduin chuckled, and Aragon only heard it because she did it mentally.  
_You might, all I do is-  
__Whatever Elmïra and myself say. _Said Teclian firmly.  
Thelduin lapsed into a sulky silence, as Teclian descended beside a massively thick willow tree, and landed with deceptive grace.

Aragon quickly disengaged his legs from Teclian's saddle and followed his new teacher up into a house grown from the tree.  
Elmïra quietly showed him where he could sleep, and no sooner than she had left than Aragon laid down on the bed, fully clothed, and went to sleep, with Thelduin coiled up beside his head.

**Again, nothing much changed here, except for a few minor details towards the end that implied that Teclian possessed a power I gave Thelduin a few chapters further ahead, and also that Elmïra's house was large enough to comfortably house Teclian without collapsing.**

**No One-liners!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The Forge of Dorù Araeba

**Disclaimer: See Chapter Two**

Aragon sighed with relief as Elmïra called a halt to the Rimgar.  
It was a week since the meeting with Eragon, and contraire to what Aragon had assumed, so far Elmïra's tutelage had been fairly easy.  
It was still challenging, and demanded all his concentration, but it wasn't taxingly difficult.

Elmïra stood breathing evenly, leaning against a small table.  
She'd been performing the Rimgar with Aragon, and he'd scarcely believed his eyes when he'd seen her bend over backwards, _straight legged_, and place her palms flat on the ground.

'Wash up now, student of mine, and be quick about it, I think its time you began to learn the art of the blade.' Said Elmïra calmly, as the two of them ascended into the tree.  
Aragon paused as he entered the bathing chamber that went with his quarters.-Elmïra had shown him the bath chamber the morning after the meeting with Eragon, and told him in no uncertain terms, he was to bathe daily, or else.  
The fact Elmïra hadn't made a specific threat strengthened the credibility of the threat in Aragon's eyes.  
But now, Elmïra's statement of a second before came back to him, and he allowed a bright grin to form on his face.  
He was finally going to learn to use a sword!

Aragon washed quickly, and pulled on the clean clothes he'd left on his bed:  
A long sleeved, grey cotton shirt, black cotton breeches, a leather vest, and calf high leather boots.  
Essentially what most student riders from disadvantaged backgrounds wore.  
Beggar's finery it was called among the more well-to-do students, mainly the richer ones.  
Simple and functional, was what Elmïra had called it.

_You humans and elves really are queer creatures._ Remarked Thelduin.  
Aragon turned around, and as expected, she was leaning against the window frame with one leg on the sill, one inside, and her tail hanging out the window.  
She'd grown somewhat since she'd hatched, and was now, from tail-tip to snout, as long as Aragon was tall, and as thick around in the chest as his thigh.  
Her own training proceeded speedily, mainly due to her uncanny prior experiences travelling, and touching minds before hatching.

'And you are a strange one yourself, compared to the other dragons of Alagaësia.' Stated Aragon, as he walked towards the door.  
Thelduin lazily dropped to the floor, and walked down the stairs next to him.  
_Strange? Or unique?_ Asked Thelduin.  
Aragon shrugged as he stepped off the stairs.  
Elmïra was waiting, and so was Teclian.

'Good, now that you are ready, let's go to the forge.' She said, then jumped nimbly onto Teclian's back.  
Aragon sighed regretfully.  
Thelduin was nowhere near large enough for him to ride yet.  
Aragon approached Teclian, then bowed. 'May I ride with ebrithä Elmïra, ebrithil?' Asked Aragon respectfully.  
Elmïra had appraised Aragon of the fact that it was the height of rudeness to interfere with another's dragon, and the two most definite ways to get yourself killed, were to try and ride another's dragon without the express consent of that rider, and the consent of that dragon.  
The other guaranteed way to get killed, was to try and ride a wild, unbonded dragon.

_By my leave, and by the leave of my rider, so long as you are our student._ Responded Teclian, lowering himself onto his belly so Aragon could climb up behind Elmïra.  
When Aragon had strapped his legs to Teclian's saddle, Teclian took off, with Thelduin flying strongly beside him, like a pilot fish swimming with a leviathan.

Teclian flew away from the small plateau where Elmïra had made her home, and flew toward the summit of the mountain.  
Aragon looked back, and noted that a large ridge protected the northern side of the plateau, sheltering the tree house from the prevailing north wind.  
As they climbed higher, Aragon looked in wonder as he saw the snowscape below, and shivered in the cold.

Suddenly, Teclian dipped his shoulders, and Aragon left his stomach behind, but managed to avoid vomiting on Elmïra's back.  
It quickly warmed, as Teclian swooped into a crater at the summit of the mountain.  
As they entered the crater, Aragon gasped in wonder.

The city was gigantic in both terms of scale and grandeur.  
The buildings had been fashioned with dragons in mind, and many of the structures were large enough for Teclian to spread his wings inside without touching the walls or ceilings.  
Every building was made almost entirely from stone,-a necessity considering how short a time it would take the dragons to destroy wood buildings, inadvertently or not,- each street was large enough for at least two dragons to walk abreast upon, and a lot of the crater's floor was tree covered.  
Aragon couldn't fit this with the rest of the city until he remembered the elves love of plants of all types, and realised they must be gardens of some kind or other.

Teclian landed with a grace that still surprised Aragon, but he had no chance to dwell on it, as he lost his balance as Teclian settled, and would've fallen off if he hadn't have been strapped to the saddle.  
When he regained his balance, he quickly unbuckled the saddle's leg-straps, and slid down Teclian's silver-and-green mottled flank.  
Thelduin landed a bit more awkwardly on Aragon's shoulder, and lay across his shoulders, dangling her tail down his back, while resting her head on her fore-claws.

Aragon followed Elmïra as she beckoned from a doorway to the left, set into the side of a otherwise plain building.  
If the word "plain" could be used to describe a building fashioned from black marble and large enough to comfortably allow a large dragon to fit inside.

Inside the building, it was hot and smokey.  
Aragon followed Elmïra through racks of armour, shields, and all manner of weapons:  
Quarterstaffs, morning stars, maces, war-hammers, spears, pikes, poleaxes, glaives, battle-axes, hand-axes, and blades ranging in size from six-foot long, two-handed claymores, to shuriken throwing stars.  
Aragon stopped short as he saw a double-bladed sword with only a one handgrip between the two blades.  
Each blade was nearly four foot long.  
'Who makes all these?' He asked as he noted the craftsmanship of the weapons.

Elmïra stopped at the end of the racks, where a space had been cleared for a waist high, stone bench, behind which stood the big, bearded rider from Tierm.  
He glanced up from a glaive blade he'd been sharpening, and looked at Elmïra and Aragon.  
'Well met, she-elf I take it you're here to see about weapons for your student?' He asked, with a teasing note.  
Elmïra sighed with exaggerated patience, and drummed her fingers on the hilt of her sword.

'Aragon, I'd like you to meet Karl Imrikson, the resident master smith of Dorù Areaba.' Said Elmïra as she regained her cool demeanour, and ignoring the comment made by Karl.  
Karl looked Aragon up and down.  
'How ya findin' learning from Elmïra laddie?' He asked, as he ran a finger along the flat of a scalloped knife.  
'Ebrithä Elmïra, is an excellent teacher, ebrithil.' Answered Aragon.  
Karl grinned evilly. 'Let's see what you think of her when you start using weapons,' he said with a knowing chuckle.

Karl showed Aragon and Elmïra to a small room with a cleared space for practicing with a weapon.  
As they got nearer they heard voices.

'Move your feet boy, just watch the girl, she's not standing there like her feet are nailed to the floor is she?' A meaty smack followed an instant later, followed by an all too familiar voice swearing in pain.  
As they entered, Aragon grimaced, and Elmïra put a hand in front of Aragon as a precaution.  
In the centre of the room, doubled over on the floor, was Kialandí, with a sword laying discarded in front of him.  
Standing behind him, with a training sword in hand was Sarah.

A man leaning against the wall said something inaudible, then said loudly: 'Get up boy, if this was a real fight, if you went down to such a paltry blow, then you wouldn't last ten seconds.'  
With a groan, Kialandí rolled to his feet, and picked up the training sword.  
As he assumed a ready position, Karl cleared his throat loudly.

'I'm sorry to disturb this training session, Master Eragon, Indlvarn Dalemor, but Mistress Elmïra has come to evaluate her student's weapon skill.' Said Karl politely.  
Dalemor stepped off the wall into the light.  
His face had the grizzled look of a man who'd spent the best part of his life fighting.  
His sand coloured hair was cropped short, and his nose had the distinct hook of having been broken several times.  
His skin was craggier than the slopes of Vroengard, and he had many scars on his arms and face, hinting once again to a life of violence.

'Of course, Ebrithil Ingeitum.' Said Dalemor, motioning for his student to follow.  
Kialandí gave Aragon a withering look as he walked past.  
Aragon ignored his old rival, but Thelduin eyed the door long after Kialandí had left.  
_Leave my past out of this Thelduin, that life is over, I haven't forgiven Kialandí, and I haven't forgotten to be watchful._ Admonished Aragon.  
_He is still most eager to see you run foul of a fatal accident though, even to the point where he would stab you in the back and drop you off a cliff. _Replied Thelduin warningly.

Elmïra tossed a training sword to Aragon and gestured to the centre of the room where Sarah still stood ready. 'Don't hold back, either of you.' She stated as Aragon assumed a ready stance.  
'Begin.' Said Eragon from the opposite side of the chamber in a neutral voice.  
Sarah attacked as soon as Eragon gave the go ahead, and Aragon met her attack by stepping to the side, pushing her sword away, and bringing a knee up, and firmly hitting her in the ribs.  
Sarah hissed in pain, but swung a back hand retaliation that Aragon blocked, before flicking his sword back the other way, pausing it under Sarah's chin, and holding it softly against her throat.  
'Dead.' He said firmly.  
The two of them broke apart, and stood ready.

'I didn't know that they taught swordcraft on the street or in orphanages.' Said Elmïra in surprise.  
Aragon grinned slyly. 'They don't,' he said, 'on the street you learn how to _fight,_ or you end up dead pretty quickly.'  
'Swordcraft definitely for you, but I think we'd best see how you do with a ranged weapon.' Said Karl, nodding to himself.

Elmïra nodded once, then threw a longbow to Aragon, along with a quiver. 'See that target on the far wall?' Asked Elmïra, gesturing to the target, which was a meter in diameter, and set at chest height.  
Aragon nodded.  
'Shoot at it, see if you can hit it.' Said Elmïra calmly.

Aragon took the bow, and clumsily fitted an arrow, before sighting, drawing the bow as far as he could, remembering how Elmïra had showed him previously how it was done, and released.  
The arrow skittered off the wall next to the target.  
'Again.' Said Karl impassively.

Twenty four shots later, and the results were conclusive: Aragon was not a good shot with the bow.  
Three fifths of his shots had missed the target completely.  
Another five were in a wide spread around the edge of the target, and the remaining five had hit.

'The longbow doesn't appear to be the weapon for you,' Observed Karl thoughtfully, then he brightened, 'I'll be back in a moment.' He announced, then strode back into the forge.  
A moment later, Karl returned with a strange looking device held triumphantly in his hand.  
'Try this, young Aragon, my own invention: A wrist-mounted crossbow.' Said Karl proudly.

Aragon took the device, and examined it critically.  
It consisted of a rigid vambrace, with a raised, angled metal protector.  
Around the bracer was a double bracelet holding ten short bolts.  
For the life of him, Aragon couldn't see how the thing could possibly be a crossbow.  
Aragon hesitantly slipped the contraption onto his left arm, and found that what he'd taken to be a jumble of straps, turned out to be the skeleton of a glove, which fitted onto his hand.

'Tilt your wrist forward.' Commanded Karl.  
Aragon obeyed, and two recurved metal limbs extended from the sides of the gauntlet, with a metal cord pulled taut between them.  
'Now aim down your wrist, and when you want to fire, clench your fist.' Instructed Karl.

Aragon nodded, and carefully sighted his shot through two small upthrusts of silver in the shape of a crescent moon.  
He exhaled as he tightened his fist, and with a soft _twang!_ the bow fired, and the shot hit the target one ring off the bullseye.  
Aragon unclenched his fist, and watched as the wrist-bow rearmed, and reloaded itself.  
'Again.' Said Karl with a wide grin of boyish delight, obviously pleased his invention worked.

Aragon sighted and fired again, this time hitting just off the bullseye on the opposite side of the first shot.  
A further eight shots later, and the contraption had run dry of arrows, but Aragon's hit rate and accuracy had improved remarkably.

'Very impressive.' Remarked Eragon, and Elmïra nodded in agreement.  
Aragon grinned elated, but Eragon's next statement left him feeling slightly let down.  
'I didn't believe half what you said about that thing Karl, I apologise, it is just as effective, if not more so, than what you said it was.'  
Aragon felt a hot flush.

Elmïra threw the training sword back to Aragon, and claimed one herself.  
'Let's see how good with a blade you really are.' She said, assuming a ready position.  
Sarah quickly stepped out of the marked sparring area, and Eragon and Karl leaned back, to watch.  
'Begin.' Said Eragon again neutrally.

Elmïra struck so fast Aragon didn't even see her move, it was only on reflex that he got his sword in place in time to block the blow that would've otherwise broken several ribs.  
Aragon parried the blow aside, and threw a kick at the inside of Elmïra's thigh, but Elmïra blocked the blow almost contemptuously by turning to her left, blocking with her knee, and throwing a back-hand side cut at Aragon, who was forced to block the full force of the blow, and staggered under the sheer strength of it.  
Then, Aragon saw a blisteringly fast object flick up from the floor, to the side of his head.  
There was a moment of acute shock and pain, then a dull clatter as Aragon passed out.

**This is probably the most notable change I've made so far: my original view of Dorù Araeba was a lot more fantastic, and the scaling was way off the mark.**

**If you've read **_**Inheritance**_**, then I'm pretty sure the abbreviated description I've put in will serve well enough.**

**For your amusement however, this was how that passage originally looked:**

Dorù Areaba floated on a giant stalactite, fully a mile around on top, and the tip floated a hundred feet from the rocky, shadowy floor of the crater.

The city itself was glorious: It was carved of black marble, with silver and red gold decorating the balconies and arches of buildings, even from their height, Aragon spied several beautifully fashioned white marble spires, capped with giant sapphires of midnight blue, and other lesser obelisks of silver set with rubies and topaz.

Around the edge of the city there was a hundred metre ring of bare ground, broken only by granite statues set in a ring around the city looking outward.

Each statue depicted a dragon and rider.

Some stood serenely, the rider with their weapon of choice at rest, with a look of compassion, with their dragon partner standing beside them.

Other statues depicted riders in fighting stances, some highly stylised and exaggerated, with weapons raised in anger and defiance, with looks of anger on their faces, and their dragons also, reflected the violence of the scene.

'What are those statues, ebrithä?' Asked Aragon over the wind.

_I'll tell you later, student of mine._ Answered Elmïra, as Teclian flew towards a section of the city where blue smoke rose from in lazy eddies of air.

**Yeah, Warhammer Fantasy High Elves-inspired much?**

**No One-Liners!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Snalglí

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One.**

Aragon glanced up and looked around as his neck prickled.  
He glanced around, looking to see what was watching him, but he couldn't make anything out.  
It was three months since he'd begun learning sword craft, and he was confident in his abilities, even if wasn't a match for an elf yet.

He and Thelduin were enjoying some rare time off in a small orchard on the south-eastern edge of the plateau where Elmïra had made her home.  
It was warm, sunny and a beautiful day.

Thelduin was flying somewhere nearby, and he was enjoying the bounty of the orchard. It was the middle of Autumn, and the trees were loaded with fruit, and Aragon, still getting used to the notion of three guaranteed meals a day,-provided he bathed daily,-was taking the opportunity to gorge himself on the rich bounty.  
There was no one, and no thing there, so Aragon returned to harvesting the perfectly ripe pears and apples the orchard had to offer.

A slithering sound made him wheel about, and come face to face with-  
A giant snail…?  
It was a head shorter than he was, and each eye was the size of his fist.

'Holy-' Aragon didn't wait around to complete his expletive, but bolted in the opposite direction, out of the orchard and onto the open ground, drawing his sword as he did so.  
He didn't bother opening his wrist-bow, as he didn't trust the short bolts to do much against the creature.

He cast a glance over his shoulder, and was just a fraction too slow in diving to the side, and the snail lowered it's body onto his legs.  
Aragon shuddered in revulsion at the slick slime which soaked through his breeches and boots.  
The thing slid faster than he could run.  
And what a way to go-eaten by a thrice damned _snail!_

There was a hideous sucking squelch, and the weight of the snail vanished, then there was an odd crack as it landed upside down next to him.  
Aragon scrambled out of the way as Thelduin twisted around in the air and landed, before picking up the creature in her jaws and cracking it's shell against the ground.  
The thing hissed like a snake, and Thelduin bit it just in front of the mantle, causing it to convulse once, then die.  
_What…the….is…?_ Aragon asked, too bewildered and off balance to form a coherent question.  
_My lunch._ Thelduin replied, and Aragon could sense her anticipation.  
_Wait, what?_ Asked Aragon.  
_Thank you for luring it out into the open for me Aragon, I've been trying to find one of these all morning, Teclian says that they're fine eating._ Thelduin said, nosing him affectionately, which considering her snout was wet with snail slime, he could've done without.  
_Thelduin, what _in Angvard's name_, is that thing? _Asked Aragon slowly.  
_A Snalglí, they're absolute delicacy for a dragon._ Thelduin said, biting a piece of flesh, mantle and shell away, before swallowing, then paused a moment to savour it, before beginning to feed with relish.  
_Great. Enjoy yourself; excuse me while I go and get cleaned up._ Said Aragon, not bothering to hide his disgust at being covered in snail slime.  
_Do you mind helping me lure some more of these things out later on?_ Thelduin asked hopefully.  
Aragon sighed in exasperation. _Alright. He said resignedly._

**A bit of an add-on chapter, spawned by the on going edit.**

**Yes it plays merry hell with the chapter numbers, but I'll fix it when I get there, please don't tell me about my count being off, I am fully aware of it.**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Mûnnguldûr

**Disclaimer: See Chapter Two**

'Concentrate Aragon, push yourself, if you idle through your stances, and don't perform these techniques like your life depends on them, how will you fare when it actually does? Poorly no doubt.' Said Eragon giving Aragon a look that was piercing if nothing else.

Aragon gritted his teeth, and brought his fists back up to guard his face.  
His shoulders were burning, he was shaking with exhaustion, and his clothes were soaked with perspiration.

'Again Aragon, and see if you can't maintain height _and_ accuracy, a roundhouse kick to the head is all very well, but it's worse than useless if it goes sailing over your target's head.' Instructed Eragon, '_Ich,_' he said, and Aragon brought his right leg up, knee bent, foot pointed down, and snapped his knee straight, pivoting on his grounded foot, and struck at a point roughly a metre in front of his face, before bringing the leg back and placing it down.  
'_Ni,'_ Aragon repeated the kick, this time off his left leg, and placed it back down.  
'_San,'_ Again Aragon repeated the kick off his right leg, before placing it back down, his body was burning from the exertion, and the Rimgar he'd performed earlier.

The count dragged on for another seven repetitions, and on the last, as was expected when practicing this odd style of fighting, Aragon shouted a barely recognisable version of the term Eragon had taught him for the shout: '_Kih-ya_,' He shouted, it was distorted not just by effort, but by exhaustion.  
Aragon kept his guard up as Eragon remained silent for a moment.  
Then, the elf sighed. 'Aragon, you need to learn to breath, you wouldn't be feeling half as tired as you are now if you made an effort to control your breathing.' Admonished Eragon.  
Aragon nodded in acknowledgement. 'Yes master.' He said.

'Now, so you can practice this, another fifty head-height roundhouse kicks.' Said Eragon.  
Aragon's heart sank to his feet, but he didn't say anything. 'Yes master.' Said Aragon, keeping control of his voice, so as not to let the exasperation he felt come through.  
Eragon nodded. 'You're learning, Aragon-finiarel, return to your quarters, and bathe, then report to your teacher, dismissed.' Said Eragon.  
Aragon could scarcely believe his luck, but still maintained his disciplined silence.  
With a respectful bow, Aragon walked down from the smooth plateau, down to a small outcrop where Thelduin was waiting.

* * *

It was six months since Aragon had begun learning the arts of the combat, and he was quickly becoming a formidable fighter.

The morning after he'd duelled Elmïra in the forge, Aragon had woken with a splitting headache.  
After performing the Rimgar with his teacher, as she expected, they ate a light breakfast, where Aragon had asked: 'What did you do yesterday? One minute we were trading sword blows, the next you did something, and next thing I know, I'm waking up in bed a day later with a bad headache.'  
Elmïra blushed bright scarlet in embarrassment, and, to Aragon's surprise,- as his mind lightly touched all the beings around them out of habit from meditating daily,- shame.  
'In all honesty, I apologise for that, I shouldn't have employed that particular fighting style.' She explained.  
'That's alright, but what did you do?' Asked Aragon curiously.  
Elmïra sighed. 'You remember how Eragon told you that he accidentally ended up travelling through several different worlds, and times?' She asked.

Aragon nodded mutely, dimly aware of Thelduin chewing a clump of fireweed.  
'Well, in one of those worlds,-the one where he learnt how to channel magic through that wand of his, he also studied a form of unarmed combat, for seven years, when he made it back here, and took me as his student, he taught me this style of fighting, Karatè, I think he called it; it is the art of using the body as a weapon: It takes a lot of discipline, and a lot of hard work to become proficient, not to mention dedication.' Elmïra recounted.  
'How does it work?' Asked Aragon.

'It teaches how to get the most effect from different strikes, improving technique, things like that, it's a difficult subject to explain, but it teaches how to use different techniques, punches, kicks, knee-kicks, elbow-strikes, it's useful to know, especially if you're unarmed and you're attacked.' She answered with a shake of her head.  
'If you want to learn, I'll tell Eragon, and he can teach you, he's better at it than I am.' Said Elmïra, pre-empting Aragon's question.

'But what did you do yesterday?' Aragon persisted.  
'A roundhouse kick to the head.' Answered Elmïra embarrassed.

* * *

Thelduin climbed to her feet as Aragon approached.  
She wasn't the petite serpent she had been when she hatched, she was now twice Aragon's height when she stood on all-fours, and as long as Teclian, despite being only as thick in the chest as a tree trunk.  
_We should hurry back, soul-friend, mistress Elmïra wants to see us._ Said Thelduin, as Aragon climbed onto her back, and tied himself onto the saddle he'd fashioned for when he flew with her.  
_Did she say what it was about?_ Asked Aragon curiously.  
_No she didn't, but thoughts of justice and debate were on her mind, and a long journey._ Said Thelduin with a hint of excitement.  
Aragon felt it as well. _A journey? Maybe we're going to the Beor Mountains, or the Great Forest, or the frozen isles, or maybe even a journey across the sea!_ Said Aragon excitedly.  
Aragon felt Thelduin chuckle underneath him. _We shall see, soul-friend, we shall see._ She said with amusement at her rider's wild imaginings.  
_Wherever we are going, I just hope they don't have those bloody snails._ Aragon added.  
_They aren't that bad._ Thelduin huffed. _Besides, they taste _divine.  
Aragon gave a revolted shiver, but didn't comment.

* * *

Five minutes later, Thelduin landed beside the giant willow that Elmïra had grown her home from.  
The elf was wearing a thoughtful and grim expression on her face, and Aragon noted the bags attached to Teclian's saddle.  
A large, moulded, and elongated version of a dragon saddle rested beside Elmïra.  
'I told you karaté is a hard skill did I not?' Asked Elmïra with the ghost of a smile.  
'You did, ebrithä, but so is learning to wield a sword, or fight with knives, or learning how to wield a bow.' Replied Aragon as he slid out of Thelduin's make-shift saddle.  
Elmïra nodded. 'Very true, student of mine, and you are learning well, the lessons set before you.' She said, then she sighed.  
'I judge it is time that you began to study magic.' She said with the air of someone getting something unpleasant out in the open.

Aragon kept his expression neutral, but inside he was dancing a jig.  
_But a matter of grave concern has come to the attention of the Riders, Elmïra and myself have been selected as part of a council to be held in the city of Ilirea, where we are heading now. _Said Teclian in his guttural mental voice.  
'You will be coming as well, it will do you good to meet other initiates your own age, and, an old friend of mine dwells in Ilirea, he's widely regarded as one of the most proficient magicians in Alagaësia, so, during this council, I think it wise that you learn from him.' Said Elmïra calmly.  
'Now, go pack your things, we leave as soon as you are ready, so do not tarry.' Said Elmïra sternly.

An hour later, Aragon had packed his travelling gear, and hunted out his weapons, and a few other items that had accumulated in his quarters in the past six months.  
When he exited, Elmïra was waiting, with the second saddle in her arms.  
'I had this saddle made specially for you and Thelduin, we are going to be spending a lot of time flying, and even with the saddle you made for Thelduin, you'd most likely end up extremely sore after a few hours riding without a proper saddle.' She said, passing the saddle to Aragon as he placed his kit to one side.

It took Aragon under two minutes to figure out how to put the new saddle onto Thelduin's back, then a further eight minutes as Elmïra showed her student how to secure his saddle bags to Thelduin's saddle.  
Finally, they were ready to depart, and Aragon had strapped himself onto the new saddle.  
'Now pay close attention Aragon, you're going to get a whirlwind lesson in Alagaësia's geography,' Said Elmïra from Teclian's back.  
_Follow me closely young one, for it could be disastrous for you and your rider if you strayed, many unbound dragons inhabit the Spine, and not all of them are charitable to those who are lost._ Warned Teclian.  
_Of course, Ebrithil._ Replied Thelduin.  
With that, Thelduin propelled herself into the air, auguring like an arrow, causing Aragon to shout in surprise.  
Teclian joined the circling she-dragon after a moment, then Teclian flew off south-east, with Thelduin following close behind.

* * *

They flew hard and high for the rest of the day, and Aragon was thankful of the thick cold weather gear that Elmïra had given him the month before, at the start of winter.  
Throughout the flight, Elmïra taught Aragon and Thelduin about the various types of terrains and climates of Alagaësia, how one area effected another, and the various animals and plants that varied from region to region.  
When that subject had been exhausted, they were well into the mountains, and the sun was beginning to descend towards evening.

* * *

Without warning, a vast, scaly, brown _something _slammed into Thelduin's side, nearly wrenching Aragon clean out of his saddle.  
Thelduin was sent reeling, and before she could recover, the newcomer was on her again.  
Aragon pulled the slipknots that held his arms in place, and drew his sword.

_Ah, A little help would be really appreciated right now!_ Aragon shouted mentally, as Thelduin rolled under her attacker, before attempting to flee, but the newcomer was ready, and lashed out with a thick, taloned paw.  
Aragon risked raising his head, and got a good look at the aggressor: A huge, brown dragon, not as large as Teclian, but still formidable, and easily capable of badly injuring Thelduin in a straight up fight.

The dragon went to attack Thelduin again, aiming to bite at the base of her skull, but Thelduin dived towards the ground, bringing Aragon parallel to the attacking dragon's head.  
Without hesitation, Aragon lashed out with a back-hand cut, catching the dragon above the eye, and nearly wrenching the sword from his hand.  
Then he was below the dragon's jaw, and he pressed himself into his saddle, trusting his safety to Thelduin.  
As her tail whipped past the brown dragon's head, she flicked her tail-tip, and the feather-like mane whipped around, and struck the dragon in the eye. The dragon roared in pain, and swung it's body downward, hitting Thelduin in the chest with it's tail.

Aragon shouted out, as he felt several of Thelduin's ribs break.  
_We have to get out of here, you can't take another hit like that!_ Aragon shouted in alarm.  
_I'll live._ Thelduin assured him, and Aragon could feel the hot anger and indignant fury Thelduin felt.

Corkscrewing upward once more, Thelduin feinted weakness, and the brown dragon came forward once more, and Thelduin pounced.  
She surged forward, wrapping her tail around the dragon's neck, blinding it with her tail-mane, and scratching at it's wings with her talons.

The dragon began to buck and toss in an attempt to throw Thelduin off, but Thelduin only tightened her relentless grip with her tail, in an attempt to choke the larger dragon.  
Finally, the dragon tried the same trick that it had used before, throwing it's body backward, and flicking it's tail, striking like a scorpion, in an attempt to hit Thelduin again.  
Thelduin was too slow to dodge the blow, and it struck her in the neck.

Aragon gasped, in shared pain, as he too felt as if he couldn't breath.  
_Teclian! By all the stars in heaven, help!_ Aragon shouted mentally, as Thelduin dived towards the ground to try and escape her aggressor.  
Aragon still felt as if he couldn't breath, and in desperation, he searched frantically, and deeply, and found something that was a part of him, but at the same time foreign, and without regard for whether the effort would be too much, plunged into the currents of the magic, and cried desperately: 'Waise Heíl, Thelduin!'

The drop in his strength was instantaneous, and large, but Aragon instantly felt the pain of slow asphyxiation cease, and felt the shared throbbing pain of Thelduin's broken ribs disappear.  
Thelduin instantly lent her strength to Aragon in concern.  
_Thank you, dear-soul, but that was very reckless._ She chided.

Aragon shook his head, and clenched his left fist, causing his wrist-bow to snap open.  
_You're all right now, and that's all that I was concerned about; Now let's get this back-stabbing, blackguard bastard!  
_Thelduin growled in agreement, and then opened her mind wide. _Let us fight as one! As a Dragon and her Rider should!_ Decreed Thelduin.  
In response, Aragon opened his mind to Thelduin, and they joined on a primal level.

They shot forward quickly, and circled their foe, then they feinted left, and when the brown dragon shied to the right, revealing it's shoulder, they put a short crossbow bolt through it's flying arm.  
The brown dragon bellowed in pain and anger, and flew at them, but they were ready, and they dodged to the side, kicking the dragon in the side as they sidestepped it with clawed feet, then they gripped it's wings in clawed hands, and threw at the mountainside.  
The brown dragon managed to stop itself from excavating a crater in the side of the mountain, only to catch a tremendous blow from Thelduin and Aragon's tail, followed by a stinging cut under it's arm from their sword.

As they came around again, a vast, green and silver dragon interceded.  
The brown dragon gratefully landed, wounded, and beaten.

Aragon blinked as Thelduin and he disentangled themselves from each other's minds, becoming two distinct beings once more, as Teclian and Elmïra entered the joined mind of the two, and brought them out of their trance.  
_What Happened?_ Demanded Teclian and Elmïra at the same time, with a mixture of concern, and suspicion.  
_We were flying behind you, when all of a sudden, that brown dragon down there blind-sided us, and so, we fought back. _Explained Thelduin.  
Teclian and Elmïra were silent for a while, as they scrutinised their pupil's story.  
_We will land now, and get the version of events from the unbound one, remain here, the sight of a pair of young ones who bested him would enrage this one beyond reason, I think. _Teclian told them in a voice of cracking stone.

A further minute passed, and Aragon rubbed his brow, weary, and with the beginnings of a headache after the adrenal rush that the battle with the dragon had triggered.  
_You can come down now, it seems apologies are owed on both sides._ Said Elmïra neutrally.  
Aragon could just imagine her flicking her purple streaked hair in annoyance, a habit of hers he'd picked up meant she was impatient with something, or not impressed.

Thelduin glanced back at her weary Rider.  
Aragon shrugged, and grimaced. 'We're damned if we do, and damned if we don't so, let's just get it over with.' Said Aragon, and he felt Thelduin chuckle beneath him, as she began to descend.

Aragon sheathed his sword, and when Thelduin landed, unbuckled his legs from his saddle, then carefully climbed down her left foreleg.  
He was yet to develop the abilities of an elf.

On the ground, the brown dragon seemed all the more intimidating to Aragon.  
A low growl rose from it's throat.  
Elmïra sighed. 'From the memories of the three of you, Teclian and myself have got the whole story; Aragon, Thelduin, this is Mûnnguldûr.' Said Elmïra motioning to the injured brown dragon.

Mûnnguldûr raised his head, and regarded Aragon and Thelduin icily, then grunted, and stepped forward, stopping a foot in front of Aragon's face.  
_I apologise for attacking you, Thelduin Evar-Skulblaka, Aragon the Grey, I thought you were attempting to steal my new territory._ Said Mûnnguldûr stiffly.  
'Now you two apologise for trespassing in his territory.' Mouthed Elmïra silently.

_We apologise for trespassing in your territory, Mûnnguldûr._ Apologised Thelduin and Aragon together.  
_If it would make amends, would you allow me to heal your wounds?_ Enquired Aragon.

Mûnnguldûr chuckled deep in his throat. _No need, youngling, your teacher has already healed the worst of the wounds you dealt me, and the only ones that remain, I shall bare as scars, as a reminder for me to look at those who enter my territory before I attack them. _He said ruefully.  
Elmïra cleared her throat, and Mûnnguldûr turned his ponderous head to face the she-elf.  
'Would you consent for us to spend the night in your territory? For the sun grows ever closer to setting, and Lethrblaka are said to haunt these mountains during the night, and truly, we have a long way to fly.' She asked respectfully.

Mûnnguldûr nodded sharply once. _I shall do better than that, Elder Elmïra, tonight, I invite you all to bed in mine cave, as my way of apology for attacking your students, and in recognition of my defeat._ Said Mûnnguldûr to all of them.  
'You do us a great honour.' Said Elmïra in way of thanks.

* * *

That night would remain etched in Aragon's memory for the rest of his life.  
Despite Aragon's apprehension at spending the night in the cave of a wild, unbound dragon, he was surprised to find that Mûnnguldûr was a rather animated, and very gracious host.

He provided a meal in the form of roasted boar, fowl, and what few edible plants he could find.  
Much to Aragon's surprise, Elmïra ate the meat given to her without complaint.

Mûnnguldûr it turned out, was a great storyteller, and he kept them awake for a good deal of the night with stories of his adventures trying to find a place to call his own.  
_So where are you originally from, Mûnnguldûr? For I do not remember you at all, and I and Elmïra have travelled widely throughout the years._ Asked Teclian curiously.  
Mûnnguldûr chuckled. _Have you heard of the Blessed Realm my friend?_ Asked Mûnnguldûr.  
Teclian nodded his head. _I have heard of the Blessed Realm, but only from my former teacher, Bid'Daum, but he had only visited briefly; Apparently many of the dragons of the Blessed Realm had been corrupted by evil._ Recalled Teclian.  
Mûnnguldûr drew back his head as if to spit in disgust, then thought better of it. _Aye, the dragons of the Blessed Realm, at least, the native ones, were created as evil beasts of war.  
__My sire and dam travelled there across the Three Seas before I was conceived, and made a home among the lofty peaks of the Misty Mountains.  
__That is where I herald from, Teclian of the emerald scales, I hale from the Blessed Realm!_ Said Mûnnguldûr proudly.

He insisted on recounting a tale of a great battle in a shadowed land, that saw the fall of an evil spirit, and then of his quest to find a place to call his home, of the many fights over territory he'd fought, and then his joy at finding the unoccupied region of the Spine where they currently were.  
_And that is why I took offence at you travelling through my domain my friends,_ said Mûnnguldûr; _I have searched far and wide for a place to call my own, and suffered many losses in my quest, so when I saw you flying through my territory, I… I was angry beyond reason, and did not stop to consider that you were simply travelling through here, ignorant of my existence. _He explained.  
Thelduin laid one of her hand-like fore-claws over Mûnnguldûr's massive paw. _I forgive you, Mûnnguldûr._ She intoned sincerely.  
_As do I._ Added Aragon, in complete agreement with his dragon partner.  
Mûnnguldûr blinked both eyes and inclined his head. _Thank you, both of you._ He replied.

**For continuity's sake, I added in a couple of comments about the previous chapter, so it didn't look as unceremoniously jammed in as it actually is.**

**No One-liners!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Friends, New And Old

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One.**

The next morning, when they were ready to depart, Mûnnguldûr approached them.  
_May the wind bear you speedily to your journey's end, my friends._ He said.  
Elmïra bowed in acknowledgement of Mûnnguldûr's goodbye. _Thank you for your kind words._ She said.

Mûnnguldûr hesitated, then said: _If ever you wish to visit the Blessed Realm, seek me out, and I will show you how to reach it.  
_Aragon's eyes widened as he heard it, and Teclian glanced sharply at the smaller brown dragon in astonishment.  
_You honour us beyond thanks, Mûnnguldûr-vodhr, we shall seek you out if ever we can._ Said Elmïra, obviously as shocked as Teclian.  
After expressing their thanks again, and bidding farewell, Teclian and Thelduin set off from Mûnnguldûr's cave, once more heading for Ilirea.

* * *

By that evening, they were out of Mûnnguldûr's territory, and they stopped to camp by the Ninor river, on the edge of the great plain.  
As Aragon set about building a fire to cook the evening meal, Elmïra was busy casting wards around the camp, so they wouldn't attract any unwanted attention.  
Thelduin, who was busy cleaning her scales, looked up when she heard the she-elf finish, and then flicked Aragon with her tail, with the message: _look.  
_Aragon glanced at what Thelduin was trying to draw his attention too, while trying not to burn the simple stew that was simmering over the fire.  
Elmïra and Teclian were looking south-east, and Elmïra was shading her eyes, as if to see something at a great distance.

Then she nodded sharply, and turned to Aragon with a mischievous smile on her face.  
'Oh no, I know that look.' Said Aragon, shaking his head and backing away from his teacher.

The last time she'd had that look on her face, She'd talked Aragon into helping her play a practical joke on Vrael.  
He'd been demonstrating what Elmïra had taught him, while she went and seeded Vrael's bed with itching powder.  
He'd spent the next month doing housework for the rider's leader, while Elmïra had been sent hunting a band of notoriously evasive slavers.  
She'd eventually returned, sunburnt, haggard, and short tempered, and there'd been no lessons with her for a week while she recovered.  
And Teclian had been rather withdrawn and thoughtful, so Aragon had taken to practicing with Thelduin, she trying to strike him any way possible, while he evaded her attacks.

'You won't be doing laundry duty for a month this time Aragon, leave the fire burning, but pack everything else, an old friend of mine is further out on the plain, along with four students of his.  
We trained together, and I never once managed to best him in contests of stealth,- he was so damned vigilant,- so, I'm going to see whether or not he's let himself slip or not.' Said Elmïra, as Teclian took off.  
Thelduin and Aragon looked at each other.

'And what exactly do you want us to do?' Asked Aragon suspiciously, dreading the answer.  
'Distract his two apprentices, and their dragons, and try and draw his dragon off as well.' Replied Elmïra, and Aragon couldn't help but groan in despair, and drop his head into his hand.  
Then Thelduin flicked him across the back of the head with her tail-mane.  
Aragon looked at her in surprise.  
_What was that for?_ He asked incredulously.  
_If you hadn't asked, we wouldn't be being used as live bait right now._ Responded Thelduin waspishly, growling deep in her throat.  
Then Elmïra came over and gave Aragon a light punch on the arm.  
'Just consider this a lesson in stealth and tactics.' She said encouragingly.

Aragon gave an incomprehensible reply, then pulled his things together, and placed them on Thelduin's saddle.

* * *

Now they were closer, Aragon began to think that his teacher might've spent a bit too long in the desert, and that she was yet to truly return to her normal, relatively sane self.  
There were indeed three dragon riders stopped for the night on the plain along with them:

One was a slight boy, and Aragon put his age at about fourteen. He had brown hair, and lightly tanned skin.  
_Then again, most novice riders do._ Thought Aragon to himself, grinning ruefully as he realised just how much time he spent training outside, like practically every other novice rider.

The second was around Aragon's own age, and had black hair, and from what Aragon could gather from watching from fifty metres from the camp with his mind closed, was a lot like Kialandì: An utter prick; albeit, an utter prick in beggar's finery, which didn't really improve his standing in Aragon's eyes.

The third, was an elf, who Aragon judged to be close to Elmïra's age, although, as Aragon had learned from his teacher, he was most likely out by a margin of a decade or three.

But the three _other_ inhabitants of the night-camp were what kept drawing Aragon's and Thelduin's attentions.  
Aragon could feel his bonded partner squirming with apprehension as they looked on these three.

They were three dragons, One looked to be the height of Tierm's outer wall, and was a bronze-gold colour that Aragon was sure would mirror the sun with dazzling effect on clear days.  
A red dragon, small beside the massive gold dragon, but still easily bigger than Thelduin, was lazily cleaning it's scales as the three riders talked.  
The third dragon was the smallest, looking to be maybe three months older than Thelduin, and about as big.

Aragon took a steadying breath, then rose slowly into a crouch and reached his mind out to Thelduin. _She owes us so bad this time, look at the size of them!_ Aragon mentally exclaimed to his partner, and watched as the three riders, and dragons stiffened, then the elven rider gestured for his two apprentices to go and investigate.  
They did, along with their dragons.

Quickly as he dared, Aragon set off in the other direction, praying that Thelduin wasn't going to cut this one too fine.

* * *

Elmïra smiled as she crept closer, and saw her old friend Oromis, send his two apprentices, and their dragons to investigate a disturbance opposite where she currently was laying prone.  
It meant Aragon had given himself away.  
Sure, enough, she saw her student running like hell in the opposite direction to the two apprentices of Oromis, drawing them away from the camp.  
With a quiet word to Teclian, the great dragon swooped overhead, and Oromis's dragon Glaedr,-proud, powerful Glaedr,- took flight after Teclian.

Finally, Elmïra began to close in on her old rival, stealthily, silently, and at a reasonable speed.  
Within two minutes, she was behind her old rival.  
Carefully, she raised herself into a crouch, then jumped at Oromis-

-only for him to turn and catch her midair, before throwing her onto the ground in front of him, and place Naegling to her neck.  
'You're getting better and better at that.' Said Oromis, with an amused expression, as he sheathed Naegling, then helped Elmïra to stand.  
'I'm not even going to ask how you knew I was there.' Said Elmïra, shaking her head.  
Oromis smiled.  
'If you hadn't have jumped at me like that, I wouldn't have known of your presence until you'd pressed a dagger to my throat.' Said Oromis modestly.  
'I take it that that was Teclian who Glaedr was chasing?' Enquired Oromis.  
'Yes, that was him.' Said Elmïra simply, as Oromis's two apprentices came back into the camp, the older one sporting a split lip, while the younger had an awed expression on his face.

Their dragons came flying back a second later, appearing disgruntled to Elmïra.  
The four stopped cold as they saw Elmïra, and Aragon took the opportunity to break out of the slackened grip of the two of them, and walk up to Elmïra.  
'Next time you want live bait, go fishing.' Said Aragon to his teacher, his chest heaving and his eyes wild, before collapsing onto the balls of his feet, and attempting to catch his breath.

'A friend of yours?' Asked Oromis smoothly.  
Elmïra nodded. 'Student actually, but I don't know where the other one is.' She said, scanning the starry sky, and pulling a blank.  
'If you're looking for Thelduin, ebrithä, she's around here somewhere, but I'm buggered if I know where.' Said Aragon, collapsing onto his back, as he couldn't maintain his crouch a moment longer.

The older of the two of Oromis's apprentices looked at Aragon with a curious look.  
'Who are these two interlopers, ebrithil?' He asked.  
Aragon noted that his eyes were mismatched: One was blue, the other brown.

'They aren't interlopers Morzan-finiarel, this is an old friend of mine, Elmïra, and her apprentice…' Oromis let the pause hang.  
'Aragon, Aragon the Grey.' Said Aragon, raising a hand in weary acknowledgement.  
'You two sure as hell can run.' Said Aragon, looking at the two bemused apprentices, and hauling himself into a sitting position.  
'Thanks.' Said the younger of the two uncertainly.  
The older one just snorted, and went to sit by his dragon.  
_Their partners could do with some flying lessons though._ Thelduin told Aragon smugly.  
_And where might you be, pray tell?_ Asked Aragon sarcastically.  
_Right here._ Said Thelduin,-or at least, Thelduin, but at the size she'd been when she'd hatched,- jumping off the blue dragon's saddle into the air, where she was briefly illuminated by a sun-bright halo, like the moon during an eclipse, and returning to her usual size.

Aragon just stared at her.

So did Oromis.

So did Elmïra.

Oromis's two apprentices opened and closed their mouths stupidly, imitating goldfish.

The red dragon let out a low chuckle.

The blue one shot into the air, and attacked Thelduin in anger, only to have Thelduin flick her body in a huge circle that reminded Aragon vaguely of the crescent kicks Eragon had taught him.  
In that way, she evaded the blue dragon's initial assault, then countered by wrapping her tail around her adversary's body, and constricting, somehow managing to hold the two of them off the ground.

_Yield._ Stated Thelduin flatly, so everyone could hear.  
The blue dragon growled in threat, only to have it cut to a squeak of pain as Thelduin tightened her relentless grip.  
_I have fought Mûnnguldûr, a wild dragon over a century old, and defeated him with assistance from my rider, you are no match for me, blue-scales._ Thelduin said to everyone.  
'Saphira, yield for pity's sake, she outwitted you using dragon-magic, a power that is notoriously unpredictable, it was a one-off, and if she tightens her grip again, she'll break your back.' Pleaded the younger apprentice.  
The blue dragon,-Saphira,-seemed to sigh, then grudgingly, so all could hear said:  
_I yield._

Thelduin released her captive, then landed gracefully by Aragon.  
'Sorry about that, but Thelduin is one for theatrics; and she was fully within her rights to defend herself.' Said Aragon to the younger apprentice.  
'Leave them, the defeat'll keep their collective ego from becoming inflated.' Advised Morzan.

Aragon decided then and there that his initial impressions were correct: Morzan could be as big a prick as Kialandì.  
Ignoring Morzan, Aragon and Thelduin went over to the younger apprentice, and Saphira.  
Saphira growled at Thelduin, who simply stopped, but Aragon continued to advance, watching Saphira carefully.  
The apprentice was running his hands over his dragon's side, checking for broken ribs.

'Hey.' Said Aragon squatting beside the apprentice.  
'Come to gloat?' Asked the apprentice sulkily.  
Aragon chuckled. 'What about? You caught me, when I was drawing you and Morzan out, and Thelduin…well she can be a bit heavy handed.' Admitted Aragon.  
Thelduin flicked Aragon across the back of the head with her tail.  
_Am not._ She said huffily, but Aragon knew she was joking.  
'See what I mean?' Said Aragon, 'oh yeah, I don't believe I caught your name,' he added after a moment.  
'It's Brom.' He said shortly.

Thelduin took another step forward, and lowered her head to Saphira's level, a posture Aragon had only seen her use once before, when she'd accidentally slashed open one of Teclian's wings, during a practice bout of aerial combat.  
It was a posture of regret, she used when seeking forgiveness.  
Saphira growled another threat, and tensed, as if to pounce.

Brom and Aragon looked at each other.  
'This is between them, I say we give them some space.' Said Aragon.  
Brom hesitated, but a louder growl from Saphira, as well as her rising to her feet and coiling in anger galvanised him into following Aragon's lead and backing away.

_Careful Thelduin, in the air you might have an advantage, but on the ground, even sharing my skills, Saphira outmatches you just due to sheer strength. _Cautioned Aragon, who noted that Morzan and his dragon hadn't moved, and seemed to be watching Saphira and Thelduin with mild interest, as if their fight were merely a drama being performed for his amusement.  
Morzan's dragon seemed to be having conflicting thoughts, about whether to follow Aragon and Brom, or stay with Morzan.

_I must do this dear-soul, or I will not sleep soundly, with this one feeling angry and vengeful with me._ Thelduin replied, laying herself down, before Saphira, the greatest display of submissive behaviour Aragon had ever seen from her.  
Aragon and Brom backed further away, leaving the two dragons to their stand-off.

* * *

The two dragons didn't move all night, only pausing to acknowledge Teclian and Glaedr as they returned an hour later.  
The way they were both panting, Aragon had a suspicion they'd spent fifteen minutes flying away from the camp, half an hour sparring with each other, and then used the remaining fifteen minutes to fly back.

Introductions were made, and when the meal was done, everyone ate in silence, the tension between Saphira and Thelduin grating on all present, except Morzan, who Aragon was beginning to suspect of thriving on conflict.

When everyone finally went to sleep, Thelduin and Saphira remained in their respective positions throughout the night, impassive.  
They were still there when the sun rose.

_Still not forgiven?_ Asked Aragon, as he awoke when the sun struck his eyelids the next morning.  
_Yes, this one is stubborn, I apologised, but she wants my apology in the ancient language, and I don't know the words to phrase it, even in the most basic terms, and I'm not asking, nor do I think she'd tell me. Even though she is a bonded dragon, she's prouder than Mûnnguldûr, and he's as wild and proud a dragon as we're ever likely to meet!_ Said Thelduin in exasperation.

Aragon sighed quietly.  
As unobtrusively as possible, he tried to wake Elmïra with his mind, but she was in the middle of some dream or other that occupied her entire attention, and blocked him out, and he wasn't stupid enough to try and batter his way into her mind.  
He didn't try Oromis because he didn't know the elf well enough to know his reaction, and he refrained from doing the same with Glaedr for the same reason.  
He didn't even consider Morzan, mainly because Aragon had a suspicion the other boy would ride him mercilessly, and Aragon wasn't in the mood to sit Morzan on his arse.  
He avoided Morzan's dragon for the same reason.  
He couldn't ask Brom for help either, Saphira would sense his touch.  
That left Teclian.

_Ebrithil Teclian?_ Asked Aragon hesitantly.  
_If you're wondering whether I'm awake Aragon, I am, and as you said last night, this is between Thelduin and Saphira, although, if they haven't resolved this by the time you lot have done with breakfast, I'll pin Saphira to the ground until she does forgive Thelduin, who I must say, is very brave to try and gain forgiveness from that one. _Said Teclian.  
_She is almost as untamed as a wild dragon. _Observed Aragon.  
_But that's not why I wanted to talk to you, according to Thelduin, Saphira will only forgive her if she says she's sorry in the ancient language, and neither of us know anything much of that language beyond 'heal,' 'master,' and 'mistress.' _Explained Aragon.  
_Again, I'm not interfering until it's time to leave, and such pride from that one isn't good. The fact Thelduin has even gone to this trouble, so soon after that fight with Mûnnguldûr shows that she is truly sorry, so its best just to wait and see if Saphira will unbend her pride, if not, Glaedr and I will have to discipline her. _Replied Teclian, letting a note of pride in Thelduin creep into his voice.  
_Wouldn't it just be Glaedr who has to discipline Saphira? He is her master after all. _Asked Aragon.  
_I think Glaedr mustn't have made lessons on pride much of a priority, or he doesn't know how to broach the topic; Or, alternatively, he just dotes too much on her. Glaedr always had a thing for a blue-scaled dragoness while we were young, and- _Teclian broke off as Glaedr subtly elbowed Teclian.  
Although 'subtly', was only a relative term, considering the elbow involved was the size of a wild boar.

_I don't think your student need know about that Teclian, or would you like me to share _your_ old love interest with him?_ Enquired Glaedr, his voice was deeper than Teclian's, and Aragon got an impression of strength exceeding that of Mûnnguldûr.

And he was possessed of colossal physical strength.  
Aragon and Thelduin had both agreed that the only reason they'd won that fight was because they'd been working together, and that if their teachers hadn't have intervened, they probably would've been killed.

_Point taken._ Conceded Teclian, and Aragon could feel a slight sense of embarrassment coming from the old dragon, and even though Teclian was concealing the memories, Aragon caught a glimpse of a black dragoness.  
_I'll tell you when this matter has been cleared up._ Said Teclian privately to Aragon, who grinned slightly as he lay there at his master's levity.

**Not much changed here, just a little bit of tightening up poorly constructed sentences.**

**No One-liners!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Broken Bones

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

When everyone at last awoke, Teclian and Glaedr delivered their ultimatum to Saphira, while everyone else packed camp.  
When breakfast was finished, the two ancient dragons approached the two young she-dragons.  
_Have you forgiven Thelduin, Saphira?_ Asked Glaedr.  
_She refuses to apologise truly to me._ Saphira said to everyone.  
Brom winced and dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his brow.

_And how do you fathom that Thelduin hasn't apologised? She has placed herself at your mercy, and has apologised, and waited the whole night through for you to forgive her, and yet you persist on her apologising in a way that she cannot, simply out of pride._ Asked Teclian.  
_You said it yourself, _master_, she cannot apologise in the language of power, thus she is not truly sorry._ Replied Saphira, and this was quickly followed by Teclian knocking Saphira off her feet, with a swipe of his tail and pinning her with one of his massive forepaws.

_Respect others, hatchling! Your reaction to Thelduin's trickery last night is excusable, but your arrogance and self-importance does nothing to win you allies, and what's more, Thelduin _cannot _apologise in the ancient language, due to the fact Elmïra and myself have only recently seen fit to begin instructing Aragon and Thelduin in magic, and even then, we have decided it safer for them to learn from Oromis; And while Elmïra and myself lodge with Oromis and Glaedr, you will afford us the same respect you do your masters, is that clear?_ Asked Teclian.

Silence greeted him.  
_Answer him Saphira, with the same respect you would give me, Oromis, the Scion, Vrael or any other senior member of our order._ Said Glaedr dangerously.  
_Yes…Master._ The last part was added grudgingly.

_Good, now put this stupidity behind you, and grant Thelduin forgiveness, then apologise yourself for keeping her awake all night, simply to satisfy your pride._ Said Glaedr.  
Saphira let out a huge sigh as Teclian released her.

_I forgive you, Thelduin, and I in turn hope you will forgive me for keeping you awake all night, simply to satisfy my pride, a dragoness shouldn't have to beg, or be at the mercy of another, after all; Will you forgive me?_ She asked.  
Thelduin stood up, and Aragon winced as he heard joints crack.  
_I forgive you, but I think you owe me a meal or two as well._ Said Thelduin.  
Saphira growled warningly, then broke off as she heard, Thelduin, Teclian, Glaedr, Aragon, and even Brom laughing.  
She snorted, and with great dignity, approached Brom, and ignored everyone else as he worked at saddling her.

* * *

Flying.  
Swooping, diving, looping, rolling, jinking, coiling through the air with not a care in the world.-Asides from the kilometre long drop to the ground below, but that was just a detail.

Aragon whooped with exhilaration as Thelduin went into a vertical dive through a cloud, and corkscrewed through the other side, coming out behind Morzan, and his dragon partner Anarch.

Despite his name, Anarch was more cautious than his partner, and ironically, preferred to stay on the straight and narrow, and did his best to keep his rider on the same path.  
With little success.  
Aragon mused that any blind fool could see Morzan was completely rebellious by nature, and delighted in bending the rules to shatter-point just for the sake of it.

Aragon turned his attention to Morzan, who'd gone as pale as a sheet at Thelduin's surprise attack.  
As far as Aragon could tell, from five days lodging alongside Oromis and his students, Morzan wasn't all that bright, although he had a devious and mean streak, and he was a bit too skilled at manipulating Brom, and some of the other novice riders for Aragon's liking.  
He'd even tried a combination of standover tactics and subtle threats to try and bully Aragon into doing what he wanted.  
Aragon had knocked Morzan's legs out from under him, causing him to fall flat on his back. Hard.  
Anarch had been out flying at the time, and would later complain of feeling like he'd fallen backwards off a cliff.

Thelduin began harrying Anarch towards the ground.  
Morzan went to attack Thelduin's vulnerable underside, only to be met by Aragon, hanging one handed off of the front of Thelduin's saddle, with his sword in the other hand.  
A quick prompt from Aragon, and Thelduin pressed close to Anarch, and Aragon let go of Thelduin's saddle, landing lightly on his feet behind Morzan, with a long knife in hand.

In retaliation, Anarch began to rock unpredictably in an attempt to shake Aragon off, but he wouldn't be swayed.  
Displaying superb balance, which had only improved from his martial arts studies, Aragon began fighting Morzan, who'd also sheathed his sword in favour of a long knife, and was fending Aragon off desperately with one hand while he tried to free his legs.  
Aragon wasn't to be denied however, and feinted a two-handed, overhead stab, and used it as a cover to switch hands, before cutting at Morzan on the side opposite his knife, forcing him to block across his body, and leaving him open for Aragon to arrest any further attacks from Morzan by grabbing hold of his forearm, just below the elbow, and holding it in the closed up position Morzan had gotten himself into.

In response, Anarch did a one-hundred-and-eighty degree roll, but Aragon just grimly hung on, sheathing his knife, in favour of grasping Morzan's arm with both hands.  
As a safety measure, Aragon also twisted Morzan's thumb until he was holding onto his knife with only his fingers.  
Aragon quickly released his right hand from Morzan's, grabbing the knife and slipping it into his belt, before resuming his two handed grip on his opponent's arm.

_Thelduin, now would be a really good time…_ Said Aragon, clenching his teeth against the strident aches in his arms.  
_I'm coming, friend of my soul, but I've got company. _Responded Thelduin, before diving out of a cloud just in front of Anarch, who was now beginning to struggle with flying inverted.  
Thelduin flew under Aragon, who dropped into his saddle with relief, before drawing his sword and placing the point between Morzan's eyes.  
_Dead._ He said mentally to Morzan and Anarch, who immediately peeled off, heading back to Ilirea.

_Not a moment too soon, here they come!_ Warned Thelduin, and Aragon quickly pressed himself to his saddle, as Saphira and Brom came out of the same cloud Thelduin had, as Thelduin twisted midair into a coiled defensive position, and hung there waiting.  
Aragon had his sword ready as he looked at the intervening distance between Saphira and Thelduin, and picked out Brom, who was looking resolutely back, sword in hand.  
The adversaries remained in their respective positions a moment longer, sizing each other up, then, just as Aragon had expected, Saphira powered forward, eager to come to grips with Thelduin.

Since she'd been bested by Thelduin on the great plain, Saphira had been unable to return the favour, although Thelduin had attempted to show Saphira some flying manoeuvres, with absolutely no success.  
Not due to Saphira's pride, but more due to the fact that Thelduin was capable of flight purely due to magical power, and less bulky, thus meaning she flew differently to Saphira, who found it a daunting prospect to try and compete with Thelduin in the air.  
And contraire to what Brom had assumed, Thelduin's ability to size-shift hadn't been a fluke of dragon-magic, because when they'd reached Ilirea, Thelduin had immediately shrunk herself to hatchling size, and landed on Aragon's shoulder.  
All the others could do, including Saphira, was stare.

Brom on the other hand, was the antithesis of Morzan: Excitable, friendly, bright, humble,-and in Aragon's opinion a little on the gullible side when it came to Morzan, who he hero-worshipped.  
Aragon had taken a liking to Brom, who also seemed to be as taken by Aragon as he was by Morzan.  
Brom was also supremely interested to learn martial arts like Aragon, while Aragon in turn was interested to know how Oromis intended to teach him magic.

They both answered the other's question with the same answer: 'It's nothing but hard work.'

It also turned out that Brom was fairly competent at the martial arts skills Elmïra had to teach, and the two apprentices had begun sparring together, Aragon taking it easy on Brom, until the boy began to strike with the same force as Aragon could muster.  
Then they both went hard on the other.

Aragon was snapped out of his musings by Saphira grabbing Thelduin's tail, and beginning to pull her into a crushing bear hug.  
Aragon could also feel Brom trying to gain access his mind, a skill that Aragon had learnt Brom was _very_ good at.  
So instead of mentally proposing his plan to Thelduin, Aragon was forced to shout it.

'Thelduin, deadweight!' Aragon shouted, and Thelduin instantly began to fall as she released the magic she used to fly.  
Saphira lurched as Thelduin's tactic unexpectedly yanked her towards the earth on a downstroke, meaning she fell twice as far as usual on the upstroke, and was having to do twice the work, but not for long.

When Saphira lurched, Thelduin shot skywards in a steep arc, reaching her zenith above Saphira, and behind Brom.  
As she descended, and wrapped herself around Saphira, Aragon once again leapt clear of Thelduin, and onto the back of his opponent's dragon, but this time, began attacking Brom with a blistering storm of attacks: sting-punches, backhand cuts, stabs, forehand cuts, overhead club-fists, uppercuts, anything that kept Brom on the defensive, and too preoccupied to fend off Thelduin while she constricted Saphira.

Brom was tenacious though, and soon, Aragon was gasping for breath, much like Saphira, only Saphira hadn't already duelled Anarch and Morzan.  
Without prompting, Thelduin again dead weighted, only now, the strain was too much for Saphira, and she began to fall.

Brom lurched in his saddle, and Aragon took the opportunity to place his sword at Brom's throat, and shout 'Dead!'  
Thelduin released her constriction hold, and Saphira took a shuddering breath, before extending her wings again.  
She lurched unexpectedly as she did, and Aragon didn't have the advantage of Thelduin to lean on any more, and lost his balance, and promptly fell off Saphira.

_Thelduin!_ Aragon screamed mentally, as the ground grew larger in his vision, and he began to make out details, like the shallow pond he was going to fall into.  
As his boots hit the water,-which Aragon immediately doubted was water, because it felt more like solid rock, and his vision went red as something broke,- He felt a sharp yank on his jacket, as Thelduin grabbed his collar.  
Or at least, Aragon's last thought was to hope it was Thelduin, before the pain became to much and he passed out.

* * *

When Aragon at last awoke, the first things he saw were two familiar faces, two unfamiliar ones, and one he didn't really want to see, but couldn't blink away, so just had to put up with.  
_Aragon?_ Asked Thelduin with concern.  
_Yeah, thanks for saving me Thelduin, I think I owe you a massage for that._ Answered Aragon groggily.  
_It wasn't me that saved you, I was too far away. _Replied Thelduin guiltily.

Aragon thought about this for a moment, then decided it might be an idea to sit up.  
He instantly regretted it as intense pain radiated from his left leg.  
'Easy Aragon, you don't want to damage that leg any more than it already has been.' Said a familiar male voice, from the human-ish face he couldn't recognise.

'Erm, I must've hit my head at some point back there, who are you again?' Asked Aragon.  
The unfamiliar figure snorted. 'You must've hit your head alright Aragon, it's me, Jarren.' Said Jarren with a tone that indicated he was smiling.  
'Guess I owe you one then.' Said Aragon blearily.  
'No, you owe Infernia for the catch, my friend.' Replied the blurred Jarren, waving aside what Aragon had said.

'What were you thinking?' Enquired Elmïra, one of the two familiar faces he'd recognised immediately.  
'You said that Morzan, Brom, Anarch, Saphira and I were supposed to practice aerial combat didn't you, mistress?' Asked Aragon in reply.  
'Not what I meant, student of mine, what were you thinking, actually jumping onto Saphira and Anarch like that?' Asked Elmïra, in a tone she was having difficulty keeping a lid on just how angry she was.

Aragon thought for a while, then gave up, his leg was still pounding in pain, and it felt like an urgal was beating a tattoo against his skull, making it to difficult to think.  
'It seemed like a good idea at the time,' said Aragon, then added quickly, 'mind you, there was probably more to it than that, but I'm not thinking too clearly at the minute, so ask again later.'

The sound of a deep, slow, shuddering breath, then an equally shaky exhalation, was enough to tell Aragon that as soon as his leg was fixed, he was probably going to spend the rest of his stay in Ilirea in the infirmary.  
Then the idea was dashed as he heard Elmïra speak. 'Oromis, don't bother fixing his leg completely, just fix anything serious, like torn ligaments and muscles, or damaged nerves, then set his leg, maybe letting it heal at it's natural pace will drum into my apprentice to _think before he acts.'_ The last part was dripping with emphasis, and Aragon knew it was for his benefit.

_Well I buggered that up good and proper didn't I?_ Aragon asked Thelduin as he contemplated spending the next month or so with one leg in a cast while he went around on crutches.  
_Aragon, if it wasn't for your concussion, and your broken leg, I'd deck you with my tail._ Replied Thelduin.  
_And don't I know it._ Aragon thought to himself, then gritted his teeth as Oromis began the tricky business of mending his smashed leg.

**This chapter didn't change any, except for the number, which was fixed for the obvious reason that another chapter appeared between nine and ten.**

**No One-liners!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

A Long Recovery

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

It took Aragon roughly five weeks to recover from his broken leg.  
During that time, he began learning the ancient language as simply a language: It's rules, structure, words, word meanings, word structure, and other assorted beasts.

Aragon found Oromis's instruction to be very patient and thorough compared to Elmïra's.  
But despite himself, Aragon was growing impatient and short tempered about simply having to lie in bed all day, having to rely on a crutch to help him limp from his bed to the privy.

Morzan was only exacerbating matters, taking every opportunity he could to try and pay Aragon back for flooring him.  
He'd purposely bump into Aragon's bad side, when he was up and hobbling around, in an attempt to dislodge Aragon's grip on his crutch, and make him fall over.

The one time he succeeded, he'd kicked Aragon's crutch away while Aragon lay gasping in pain on the ground where he'd banged his broken leg.  
And try as Aragon might,-and he'd tried every trick high and low in the book, along with starting a new volume of tricks,- everything he'd tried had failed, when Morzan either kicked the crutch away again, or simply tripped Aragon again.  
In the end, it took the unexpected return of Thelduin to sort Morzan out.  
She'd flown in as Aragon had regained his feet, only for Morzan to kick his crutch away.

He was missing for two days, while Elmïra, Oromis, Teclian and Glaedr searched high and low throughout the labyrinthine streets of Ilirea, and throughout Oromis's modest accommodation for him.  
They eventually found him,-naked, bruised, scratched, and bound with ropes,- at the top of a disused watch tower.  
From there, it was tit-for-tat: Morzan told the two masters about Thelduin beating, stripping and binding him, before dumping him in the tower.

In her defence, both Aragon and Thelduin gave their memories of Morzan's actions.  
Morzan was sentenced to sparring with Elmïra once a day for a month; And she was not gentle.

Thelduin from then on remained by Aragon's side, or more accurately, she stayed on his shoulder remaining the size of a hatchling, or flying beside him the same size.  
Or she rested on the dais in Aragon's borrowed room.  
A dais, she often shared with Anarch, much to Aragon's confusion.  
Because, how was it, when he hated Morzan's guts, that Thelduin could even remotely be attracted to Morzan's partner?

* * *

_Seriously Thelduin, _Said Aragon one day as he laid propped against the wall, left leg elevated on a stack of pillows with a portable writing desk on his lap as he focused on reading and copying a text in the ancient language, that Oromis had given him to memorise and copy out.  
_Why do you like Anarch?_ Asked Aragon.

Thelduin was lounging in the sun shining in the open window, cleaning her scales.  
She was now twice as long, from snout to tail, as Anarch, and he was over a year older than Thelduin.  
Granted, she was also about twice as thin, and only about half as strong in terms of strength of limb, but she more than compensated with superior agility, cunning and her ability to size shift.

She looked over at Aragon. _I don't know, by rights, because of Morzan, and your hatred of him, I should hate Anarch, but… I think it might be to do with the fact he tries so hard to keep Morzan out of trouble, even though he fails most of the time, and he is rather witty as well, and-  
_'Thelduin, you've got a crush on him.' Said Aragon as the penny dropped from the feelings radiating across their link, and from her confused tone and her listing of his good traits.

Thelduin chuckled deep in her throat. _Don't be daft Aragon, since when did dragons develop 'crushes' on each other?_ She asked him, her tone dripping with amusement.  
Aragon shrugged. _Since when were dragons able to shift between their actual size and the size they were as a hatchling, and anywhere in between?_ Countered Aragon, 'and besides, from what Teclian and Glaedr told me on the great plain, they were infatuated themselves when they were your age.' He added.  
_They're males though._ Said Thelduin with infuriating smugness.

_So's Anarch, so he's the one with the infatuation, and you're stringing him on are you?_ Asked Aragon teasingly.  
Thelduin gave Aragon a withering look. _We're friends. _She said with a tone of finality, then addedin a mock serious tone: _And you're taking far to much advantage of that broken leg, I'd deck you if it weren't for it.  
_Aragon chuckled, and went back to reading, as Anarch flew through the window, and settled beside Thelduin.  
_Here we go again._ Thought Aragon in annoyance, and focused on the paper before him, striving to ignore the soppy feelings coming from his link with Thelduin, and the look on Anarch's face.

**As I'm going over these chapters, I'm finding it hard to believe it's taken me two years to write this.**

**Nothing changed this chapter either except the number again.**

**Also, noting the number of times Aragon has taken a beating this story, I think I might've stuck him with a plot curse.**

**And I'm not sure if it's going to improve as time goes on and his opponents get progressively tougher.**

**No One-liners.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

A Thief in the Night

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

It was the sound of shouts that roused Aragon and Thelduin.  
His leg was newly liberated from it's cast, and he'd pushed himself hard that day, and found that his close combat skills had slipped somewhat.  
So he wasn't too appreciative of being woken in the middle of the night by shouting in the street below.

_This had better be pretty important._ Groused Aragon, then lurched to the window, and looked down at the street below.  
Nothing.  
With a muttered curse, Aragon quickly dressed, then splashed water on his face and the back of his neck to wake up properly.  
_Come on Thelduin, we'd better see what's going on. _Said Aragon, buckling on his sword.

Then he felt another voice enter his head.  
_Aragon, can you go and find out what the hell all that noise is about? _Asked Elmïra sleepily.  
_Way ahead of you mistress. This had better be pretty damn good. _Replied Aragon, not bothering to hide his irritation with the noise level.

Without another word, Aragon mounted Thelduin, then hung onto her saddle for dear life as she shot out the window.  
They quickly tracked down the source of the commotion, a posse of Ilirea's human guards were chasing someone through the dark, dragon-sized streets.  
Aragon jumped off Thelduin and landed nimbly on a rooftop, and Thelduin took her usual spot on Aragon's shoulder as he set off in pursuit of whoever the guards were chasing.  
Aragon put his quarry at about a foot shorter than he was.

Suddenly, the figure pulled a sharp right into an alley, and a moment later vaulted onto the rooftop directly in front of him.  
_Must be a street kid, or a professional thief or something, no one else develops those skills of agility but acrobats._ Aragon said to Thelduin as he leapt across the gap between the buildings and continued to hurry after the fleeing figure.

Mighty concussions reached his ears, and when Aragon looked back, he saw a huge dragon, dazzling white as virgin snow, swooping after him and the figure he was pursuing.  
_What the- that's Umaroth, what could Vrael be doing chasing some street thief?_ Wondered Thelduin.  
_I don't know, but let's catch this fleeing acrobat and find out._ Said Aragon then put on an extra burst of speed, leaping across another void between buildings, landing a bare metre behind his quarry, then snapping open his wrist bow.  
'Stop now, or I'll put a bolt through your shoulder!' Called Aragon, sighting the fleeing figure as he continued to pursue it.

The figure didn't stop, and Aragon fired a warning shot past the side of the figure's head.  
The figure, in response, dove to the left, off the edge of the building, and onto the street below, before jumping onto a barrel by the side of a house, then grabbing a second floor window ledge, pulling itself up, then climbing onto the roof and fleeing towards the city's wall.

Without prompt, Thelduin size-shifted, and picked Aragon up in her foreclaws, before throwing him into the air, and catching him on her back.  
_Warn me before you do that next time._ Said Aragon, as he caught his breath.  
Thelduin didn't answer, but followed the fleeing figure, staying low to the rooftops.

When the figure reached the wall, and dropped to the ground, before shimmying quickly up a handy rope, Aragon was waiting at the other end.  
As a hand reached for the rim of the wall, Aragon seized it and yanked the owner onto the top of the wall.  
'Wha-' Began Aragon in surprise, as he saw the figure was a young woman, around his own age, with hair the colour of night, and eyes of a deep, brilliant blue.

He didn't get any further, as the girl kicked him in the groin, before bolting past him and sliding down a grappling hook anchored to one of the watch towers.  
Aragon fell to the ground, clutching his groin and swearing in pain, before he mastered himself, and stood, just in time for a hand to grab him by the scruff of the neck and pull him into the air.

Aragon looked up, and found himself looking into the steady brown eyes of Vrael.  
'Well, if it isn't Elmïra's apprentice, and what are you doing helping that thief escape?' Asked Vrael coolly.  
Aragon blinked. 'Master Vrael, I assure you, I was merely pursuing her, mistress Elmïra instructed me to find out was causing such a hue-and-cry, which is why we were chasing the thief-girl.' Explained Aragon calmly.  
He couldn't really fault Vrael, mainly because he held the Master of the Riders in such high esteem.  
Although, he didn't appreciate the slight to his honour.

Vrael nodded sharply. 'Forgive me, but you must realise what that looked like.' He said, then gave a curse.  
'She's eluded us.' Said Vrael, then Umaroth landed once more on the wall, and Thelduin landed as Vrael lowered Aragon to the ground.  
'Aragon, would you and Thelduin please rouse Elmïra and Oromis? This matter is more dire than you would think, and I'll need the opinions of the senior riders on this.' Asked Vrael.  
Aragon nodded once, then with a short, sharp bow, he mounted Thelduin, and they headed back to Oromis's home.

* * *

Aragon yawned tiredly.  
It was two hours since the thief-girl had escaped him, and he'd been waiting in the antechamber to the meeting hall of Ilirea for half that time, waiting to see what was to be done, and to find out just what she'd stolen.  
He dozed off, eyes half lidded, leaning against the wall, Thelduin curled up, dozing on the floor opposite him.

He never noticed the figure enter from opposite the meeting hall.  
Never remembered the figure bending close to his ear and whispering an evil canticle into it.  
Neither did Thelduin, although for a long time afterward, she would feel ill at ease, knowing something wasn't right.

And neither of them saw the figure slip away into the night, with a malicious gleam in his eyes, and an evil and savage smile on his face, haggard from trials suffered in the wild.

* * *

Aragon woke with a start as the door to the meeting hall banged open.  
Thelduin jerked awake, and looked at the door.  
Standing in the doorway was Vrael.

'Nice to see you stayed alert.' He said dryly. 'Come in, it's been decided that you're to be given a small task, to judge your progress so far as a rider, and to see this matter cleared up.' Said Vrael, gesturing for Aragon to enter.  
Aragon stood, stifling another yawn, straightened up, and entered the meeting hall, trying to look calm and collected, and not as if he was in need of a good night's sleep.

Aragon looked around with tired eyes at the assembled masters.  
Vrael and Umaroth sat at the top of the circular table, Umaroth behind Vrael, who sat at the table.  
To his immediate left sat Elmïra and Teclian, while at his right sat Oromis and Glaedr.  
Beside Oromis sat Dorian Staves and Seithrena, across from them was Kialandì's grizzled teacher Dalemor, also, much to Aragon's surprise, Eragon and Bid'Daum sat off to one side, seemingly aloof from the council.

Vrael cleared his throat and stood. 'Aragon, that girl you saw tonight, her story is rather similar to yours, however, when she was given a chance to join us, and unlike you, she was not prejudiced against,'-Vrael shot a filthy look at Dorian, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat,- 'however, when none of the eggs in Dras Leona deigned to hatch for her, and we told her to try again next year, she became angry, and stormed off.' Vrael sighed and rubbed his brow, 'we thought nothing of it at the time, it was an understandable reaction, her life was,-probably still is, a misery, she had to steal to survive, live by her wits, and more than once she'd nearly been raped, but then, tonight, she resurfaced in one of the great nurseries of Ilirea where we keep the dragon eggs that are yet to hatch, and stole one of the eggs.' Vrael grimaced, as if he'd just been forced to drink a glass of lemon juice. 'Her theft would've gone undiscovered if I hadn't been out walking at the time and seen her slip the stolen egg into a rucksack, so, from there, the chase was on, a chase that ended when I, in my foolishness and suspicion, stopped to accuse you of aiding and abetting her.' Said Vrael with a defensive tone and a sideways glance at Elmïra, who's lips were razor thin, and who's eyebrows were raised in a look that bespoke reproval.

'So, what is it you require of me, ebrithil?' Asked Aragon carefully, he had a suspicion, but if he was right, he wanted to do this one by himself.  
It was Eragon who spoke, seemingly wanting to before Vrael.  
'We want you to find her Aragon, it takes incredible skill to enter Ilirea's nurseries undetected, and this girl's escape also raises questions; It may be that there's more too this than a desperate street-girl, in search of a better life.' Said Eragon.  
_Aragon, you must find her, and by whatever means necessary, bring her to us alive, if you can get her to come willingly, so much the better._ This was Bid'Daum.  
His voice seemed to reverberate through Aragon.

'Of course master, as you command, so it will be.' Said Aragon said with a bow.  
_It will be done._ Promised Thelduin.  
Dorian nodded once in approval.  
Oromis looked troubled.  
Elmïra looked thoughtful, but remained silent.  
Vrael gave a small smile, which leant his angled features a friendly cast.

'Well what are you waiting for?' Asked Dalemor, 'hop to it, the girl won't be waiting around for you.' He said with a growl evident in his voice.  
With another bow, Aragon left, with Thelduin walking beside him.  
She could tell something was wrong here, but couldn't tell what.

**This, was mainly updating some stuff that was canon related, the name of Vrael's dragon in particular, as well as his colouring.**

**Also, a little bit to get the scale of the city in perspective.**

**No One-liners!**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Ambush and Treachery

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

Aragon and Thelduin returned to Oromis's home, before collapsing exhausted onto their respective beds.  
Three hours later, they were awake, by no means rested, and tired.

Aragon pulled everything they'd need for the up-coming hunt together: weapons, sleeping gear, provisions, a spare set of clothes, cooking gear, and Elmïra even gave him a map, detailing the entirety of Alagaësia.  
When Aragon protested, saying he probably wouldn't be gone that long, Elmïra silenced him with a look.  
'Take it, odds are you'll need it, whatever you might think.' She told him.  
Aragon reluctantly pocketed the map, and went to leave.

'Oh, and here, drink this.' Said Elmïra.  
Aragon turned just in time to catch a small bottle.  
'What's this?' Asked Aragon.  
'Faelnirv, after last night, you look like you could use it.' Said Elmïra brushing a strand of hair behind a pointed ear.  
Aragon pulled the stopper from the flask, and cautiously took a swig, then gasped as it went down his throat, burning as it did.  
Instantly, Aragon felt refreshed and restored.  
'That's quite a drop.' Said Aragon in shock.

_It certainly seems to have done you good, maybe it could do the same for me?_ Enquired Thelduin.  
Aragon hesitated. _It tastes real strange, and it feels like it's burning when it goes down your throat. _He warned.  
_I'll be fine._ Thelduin told him, then opened her mouth, a clear message for Aragon to give her some.  
_You do need your strength._ Said Aragon, then poured the remainder of the faelnirv down Thelduin's gullet.  
He only just managed to get his arm clear of Thelduin's jaws before they snapped shut and she reared back, eyes wide, and tail twitching. _That stuff is _strong. Agreed Thelduin, as she shook her head to clear it.

Aragon turned back to Elmïra. 'Thank you for that mistress, now we are ready to be off, most definitely.' He said.  
'Good luck, student of mine.' She called after him, as Thelduin and Aragon exited Oromis's house.

* * *

She'd done it!  
She'd done the impossible: Broken into one of the rider's nurseries and stolen a dragon egg.  
Now, this deed should prove to the riders, and probably to the dragon within the egg, that she was worthy of becoming a rider.  
She stopped in a grove, some miles distant from Ilirea, and made her way to a cave hidden therein.

In this cave, were her few belongings: a few tattered blankets, another set of clothes, as tatty and patched as the blankets, a few tarnished utensils, and a little carved wooden dragon she'd been given when she was seven by a passer by.  
As for everything else she had, it wasn't much: another set of clothes that she was currently wearing, a canvas pack she'd stolen when she'd left Dras Leona, and a notched and rusty dagger she'd taken from the drunk inn keeper she'd worked for occasionally.

And now, she had a dragon egg.  
She pulled the egg from her pack, and sat cross-legged, admiring it's smooth, reflective black surface, like a midnight pool that would never ripple, and eternally reflect the light.

'Such a pretty thing.' Said a voice from behind her.  
She spun around, with a gasp, and saw a black haired youth with a blade-like nose, burning brown eyes that showed little white, making them appear almost black and sunk deep in their sockets, giving him a wild look, and a wide, thin mouth with down turned corners, and weather-beaten, pale, skin.  
All up, he looked like a highly unsympathetic mad-man.  
He was dressed in steel mail that somehow looked dull and dead, and didn't reflect the light.  
There was a sword at his waist, a sword of pale green.

He was flanked by two men.

One had taut, pale skin, maroon eyes, and hair as red as wine, when he caught her looking at him, he gave a smile, revealing pointed teeth.  
He too was clad in armour, but it was plate and mail, black as night, and immaculate, with a snakeskin cloak.

The other man had shoulder length grey hair that hung lankly around his lined, bloodless face, his eyes were a sickly yellow, and filled with shrewd cunning and malice.  
He didn't smile at her, merely inclined his head.

'W-who are you?' She asked eyeing the three men warily.  
She was afraid, but she wasn't going to let these people know.  
The man with the grey hair chuckled. 'Fear hangs thick around you girl, we are… people who have our arguments with the riders, and would… like to sort them out.' He said.  
The man with the red hair also chuckled. 'Our names wouldn't mean a thing to you, but maybe we should tell her anyway?' He enquired, looking at the young man with the burning brown eyes.  
'If you would tell us your name first, we will give you ours.' He said, in a rich and evocative voice.

She scoffed. 'I'm an ex-slave, I was called 'Pious', during that time, but I go by another name now, one that I don't think _you_ need to know.  
'Well, _Pious,_' said the man with the lank grey hair, 'I am Angbard, The Lord of Shades.' Said Angbard with a haughty manner, and she felt a chill, not only was the man a _shade_ he was the infamous _Lord of Shades_, a creature said to have come across the sea from the west, and to be _literally_ heartless.  
'I am Durza.' Said the man in the immaculate black armour simply. 'I am also a shade, although I do not serve the self-proclaimed lord. Yet.'  
Now she was full-blown trembling with dread.

The man in the middle laughed. 'Now, now, no reason to scare the young lady to death, my friends.' He said, then looked at her with his burning gaze. 'I am Galbatorix, and the Riders have forsaken me.' He said.  
He said something else, but she didn't hear it, as she passed out.

* * *

Galbatorix looked dispassionately at the girl who'd introduced herself as Pious. 'Bind her, then conceal yourselves, my servant shall be along shortly, and hopefully, he'll lure one of those bastards who denied me redemption here as well.' He said, and Angbard and Durza hurried to obey.  
It grated on them to have to do this traitor-rider's will, but the rewards would be great.

* * *

Aragon leaned close to the path, examining the heavy prints that led away from the city.  
It was fortunate it was so damp, and even more fortunate few people had headed for the city yet today, otherwise the thief-girl's prints would've been impossible to find.  
'Thelduin, this way,' said Aragon gesturing further down the road.  
He hadn't gone a dozen steps before the concussions of wing beats caught his attention.

Aragon looked back, irritated that he couldn't be left to such a simple task alone, and saw the familiar golden-yellow form of Seithrena landing a slight way behind him.  
He sighed, and Thelduin stopped short, and came black to crouch beside Aragon.

They waited while Dorian unstrapped himself from his saddle, then pulled the goggles on his helmet up from his eyes, and above the small brim of the helm, he then dismounted onto the muddy road, heedless of his immaculate brown leather boots.  
'Aragon!' Called Dorian cheerily as he strode up, 'I'm glad I caught up with you, as this is your first assignment, Seithrena and I thought you might appreciate some company.' He said jovially.  
Aragon had to use every ounce of his self-control to remain civil.  
This was the man who'd tried to ruin his chances of joining the riders in the first place, and had tried to kill him after his first attempt to prevent his joining had failed, after all.

'Master Staves, if you wish to join me on this hunt, that is your decision, but Master Eragon was very clear on the point that the girl be brought back alive if possible. So, if you accompany me do not draw your sword unless no other option remains, or if she draws a weapon first.' Said Aragon seriously.  
Dorian frowned. 'Was that an order?' He asked suspiciously.  
'No,' said Aragon smoothly, 'that was an ultimatum: If you wish to accompany me, you should abide by it, if not then you can either return to Ilirea, or alternatively, hunt the girl out yourself. Your choice really.' He explained.

Thelduin glanced at Dorian, with a worried look in her eyes, then at Seithrena with the same look.  
_Something's not right with him today, but I just can't figure out what._ She told Dorian privately, then said the same thing to Seithrena.  
_Be watchful of him mistress, I do not think all is as it seems here._ She added to the great gold-yellow she-dragon.  
_Yes young one, I saw his memories during the test in Tierm; this behaviour seems very out of character for him._ Replied Seithrena.  
_You're right, this isn't like him at all, even if Aragon is holding a grudge against your rider, he wouldn't act this way._ Said Thelduin concernedly.

* * *

Dorian and Aragon proceeded on foot, following the girl's trail as it led off the road, and into a small grove, from where her path became harder to follow.  
Seithrena was circling the grove high above, while Thelduin watched from the trees, looking for all the world to be a large, long tailed lizard.  
Up ahead, they saw a small clearing with a fire burning in the centre, and the thief-girl sitting by the fire enjoying a meal.  
'Quiet and stealthy from hereon out.' Said Aragon, before dropping to the ground and crawling through the underbrush as quietly as he could.

* * *

She sat by the fire, barely touching the hot food the traitor-rider and the two shades had given her.  
She was too scared to eat properly.  
When she heard the noise of someone moving stealthily through the undergrowth, she didn't react.  
If she did, if she tried to warn whoever it was, then she would die at a snap of their fingers.

A flicker of movement caught her attention.  
She glanced sharply at it, and saw a strange, long bodied lizard lounging in a tree, watching her curiously.  
She'd never seen a lizard like it before, and it took her mind off of the traitor-rider hiding in the trees, and the two shades hiding gods-knew-where.

'Well, if it isn't the thief-girl who stole the dragon egg.' Said a calmly mocking voice from behind her.  
She snapped around, and found herself looking at the boy she'd kicked in the groin that morning during her escape.  
She hadn't noticed at the time, because she was too busy trying to escape, but he looked quite handsome, in a sort of careless, untidy way.  
But, there was something decidedly wrong with him.  
When she met his eyes, she got the distinct impression he didn't know _what_ he was doing, or where he was, as if-  
_Oh gods! He's bewitched!_ She realised with a sickening jolt.

'You know,' said the boy casually, putting his hands on his hips, and leaning against a tree, 'the Masters back in Ilirea are rather impressed with what you did, even sent me out to bring you back, find out just how you did it, there'll be food, drink, a safe place to sleep, and from what the Scion said, there'll be no punishment if you return the egg you stole.' Said the boy.  
A hard arm gripped her around the neck, and pulled her to her feet.  
'And you don't have a choice whether you come or not.' Growled a hard voice in her ear.  
She felt a presence in her mind, and it wasn't the presence of Galbatorix or the shades, so she did the one thing she could:  
_This is an ambush, your companion is bewitched! Get out of here before they come back!_ She screamed mentally.

That's when things started happening very quickly.

* * *

Dorian stiffened as he heard the girl's mental shout, and immediately, Seithrena dived towards the clearing.  
Angbard and Durza literally climbed out of the trees they'd concealed themselves in, stepping from the living wood like phantoms, then Galbatorix stepped from the trees, so he was flanked by Angbard and Durza.  
_Thelduin! Grab the girl and go for help!_ Dorian bellowed mentally, then threw the girl bodily into the air, till she hung in space a full twenty feet above the tree tops.  
Thelduin surged from her branch, and into the air, size-shifting as she did so, and grabbing the girl in her forepaws as she began to fall.

After he'd thrown the girl, Dorian drew his yellow and gold sword with whiplash speed, as Seithrena crashed to the ground beside him.  
High above, Thelduin barrelled back towards the city.

'Stop that thing!' Snarled Galbatorix, and Angbard immediately spat a foul spell, summoning a beast from his native land to pursue Thelduin.  
It was slightly larger than Thelduin, and looked like the bastard offspring of a Fanghur, and a species of bird that inhabited the Beor mountains, that the dwarves called 'Ak-Baba'.  
A smell of decay and burning hair and dust hung around the vulture-like creature, as it beat it's mighty wings and pursued Thelduin towards Ilirea.

Throughout this, Aragon simply stood, unmoving, and unreactive.  
Deep down inside, he was wondering why he was simply leaning against a tree, hands on hips while Two shades and some vagabond with a rider's sword sized up one of the elder riders.  
Then the vagabond began to speak, and Aragon wondered how he could ever have doubted the voice's owner of being anything but benevolent.

**This didn't see too heavy an edit, just elaborated a little on the appearance of an Ak-Baba for those who haven't read the **_**Deltora Quest**_** series', or seen any of the awesome artwork done by Marc Mcbride that is associated.**

**No One-liners!**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The Last Stand of Dorian Staves

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

'Dorian Staves, Master of the Citadel of Tierm.' Said Galbatorix quietly, he hadn't drawn a weapon, and seemed totally at ease.  
'Galbatorix, what is the meaning of this? What are you doing consorting with shades?' Demanded Dorian.  
Galbatorix just looked at Dorian with a sour look.  
'You destroyed my life Dorian, or at least you're one of the people who did.' Said Galbatorix.  
'So, I'm going to kill you.' He finished simply.  
'But I'm not going to wield the knife, or more accurately, knives; that is going to be what that pathetic wretch standing behind you, leaning against the tree is going to do.' Said Galbatorix, his smooth voice suddenly harsh.

Dorian glanced behind him, and saw Aragon, his face completely blank and emotionless, not as if he was hiding his emotions, but as if he was devoid of emotion, step away from the tree, eyes blank, and unfocused, and go to stand before Galbatorix, who handed Aragon a scalloped knife.  
'Now, draw your knife, and kill Master Staves and his bonded partner.' Ordered Galbatorix.  
Aragon turned to Dorian, and drew the long knife at his belt.  
'As you wish, so shall it be.' Said Aragon in a lifeless tone, devoid of hate or relish, or anything, before settling into a fighting crouch, knives at the ready.  
'Oh, and Dorian, that knife I gave the boy is coated in a rare venom, if it gets into your system, you'll die in agony.' Said Galbatorix evilly, as he went to stand beside Durza and Angbard to watch the up-coming fight.

* * *

Thelduin cut through the sky as fast as she could, trying to out-pace the creature chasing her.  
_Girl, whatever you do, don't panic._ Said Thelduin, then threw her into the air, and caught her neatly on Aragon's saddle.  
_Now hang on to something, and don't let go._ Said Thelduin, soothing the girl's panic.  
_You just threw me in the air, and caught me!_ Thought the girl hysterically.  
_Be thankful I didn't eat you._ Thought Thelduin sourly to herself, if it wasn't for this girl, they wouldn't be neck-deep in it.

A sharp grating shriek reminded Thelduin they were being pursued.  
_Hold on!_ Thelduin said, before angling straight down, falling fast towards the city.  
_Teclian! Glaedr! Umaroth! We've got a problem!_ Shouted Thelduin mentally, she had no time for formality at that moment, and sent a mental image of what had transpired in the clearing.  
A reply wasn't long in the coming.

_Thelduin, kill that thing, then come to the clearing, this is worse than we originally feared, we'll meet you there._ Said Vrael, and Thelduin saw Teclian, Glaedr, Umaroth, Saphira, Anarch, Bid'Daum, a fire-scaled dragon that was vaguely familiar, and a blue and green dragon that was also vaguely familiar, and a host of other dragons she hadn't encountered, heading for the clearing.

Thelduin cork-screwed around to face her opponent, then lashed out with one of her taloned feet, opening three deep wounds on her pursuer's back.  
The beast shrieked, and then wheeled around, before hovering a short distance in front of Thelduin.  
Thelduin growled out a challenge.  
_Hang on back there, young one._ Thelduin said to the girl on her back.  
_Time too meet your maker, ugly._ Sent Thelduin to the beast in front of her.  
It screeched, a sound halfway between shock, and defiance, and that's all the reaction Thelduin gave it, before she slammed it with her tail and began slashing at it with claws and talons.

* * *

Dorian was forced to give ground as Aragon attacked, his expression as blank and emotionless as if he was still standing where he had been.  
Yet he was cart wheeling, leaping and spinning, and slashing and stabbing with his knives with all the vigour, skill and grace of an elf.  
Dorian was having his work cut out simply fending Aragon off, let alone worrying about launching a counter attack.

Seithrena was having similar problems, only she was under attack from Durza and Angbard.  
_Dorian! Keep it up, we'll be there as soon as we can!_ Called Vrael.  
Dorian took heart, but the slight distraction had allowed Aragon a slight opening, and he took it by mercilessly scoring a cut across Dorians chest.  
Dorian hissed in pain, but quickly put the cut down as insignificant.  
The knife was Aragon's own, not Galbatorix's envenomed blade, and no arteries or veins had been damaged.  
It stung like hell though.

'Heìll,' spat Dorian, and the cut on his chest closed, leaving nothing more than a gaping hole in his shirt to bare testament to Aragon's attack.  
He could hear wing beats now.  
Heavy ones.  
Frantic ones.  
They intensified until it was a constant throb.  
_Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.  
__Here comes the cavalry, a whole thunder from Ilirea._ Said Dorian to Seithrena, who replied by inverting her right paw and clawing Durza, cutting him in half vertically, and causing him to vanish in a puff of black smoke.

Struck by sudden inspiration, Dorian stepped forward, and made an overhead cut at Aragon, which the boy blocked with consummate ease.  
But this was a feint: Dorians next move was a lightning fast punch to the point of Aragon's chin, which sent him reeling, until he was in Seithrena's striking range.  
And she struck _hard._

She breathed fire at Aragon, trapping him in the middle of a ravening inferno,-gratuitous showing off on her part as the boy possessed a number of wards Elmïra had undoubtedly erected around him before he'd left,- before slamming him with her tail, sending him sailing out of the firestorm into a tree, where he hit, and fell unconscious.  
Dorian allowed himself a tight smile.

Then he heard the distinct rasp of a sword being drawn behind him.  
With whiplash sped, Dorian spun around, bringing his sword up to defend-  
An instant too late, as Galbatorix's sword bit home.

With a choked gasp of agony, Dorian stared dumbstruck into Galbatorix's eyes, finally aware of the madness within his gaze.  
Behind him, he heard Seithrena bellow in agony, as she felt his pain, before that was cut short.  
With a coarse bellow, Dorian pulled himself off the tip of Galbatorix's sword, and punched him in the face sending him staggering, and turned, to see Angbard, pull a black burnished sword, glistening with blood, from Seithrena's back.  
A wordless cry of despair and anguish tore from Dorian, as he fell to his knees.

As a final act, Dorian threw his sword, which spun end over end, a glimmering golden-yellow circle of razor-edged bright steel, which struck home, right where Angbard's heart should've been.  
Angbard cackled maniacally.  
'You missed, Dorian Staves!' Cackled Angbard, then vanished in a billow of scarlet smoke.

…_Seithrena…I'm sorry…_ Gasped Dorian, as he fell backwards.  
_You have no reason to apologise to me, Dorian._ Said Seithrena, her voice was heavy with grief, she had disgorged her eldunarì nearly a century previously, and it pained her beyond reason, that she would be parted from her rider.  
Dorian fell hard on his back, looking up at the sky.  
The last thing he ever saw, was the sight of the rider's vanguard beginning to land, ready to defend their own.  
As his vision faded to black, and his heart finally stopped beating, Dorian Staves smiled.

* * *

Aragon awoke groggily, and took a bleary glance around.  
He was in the clearing, propped against the tree he'd been leaning against, the girl was nowhere in sight, and the last thing he could remember was Dorian grabbing her.  
_Bastard must've knocked me out, and gone to claim credit for himself._ Thought Aragon sourly.  
With an effort, he opened his eyes, and looked around, taking in a scene of horror:

There was blood everywhere; And there was Dorian, with his heart pierced, bleeding his last in the middle of the clearing.  
On the other side of the clearing was Seithrena's body, covered in thick, sticky and hot dragon's blood, from a fatal wound between her wings.  
And staggering to his feet, with a blue-green rider's sword, drenched in blood, was a young man, maybe a couple of years older than Aragon, with black hair.

With a bellow of rage, Aragon leapt from his sitting position, drawing his own sword, along with picking up his long knife, which he must've used to defend himself, sometime during the bloody fight, before he'd been knocked out, and threw himself at the vagabond that had killed Dorian, as all around, the riders began to descend.  
The vagabond turned, not so much in surprise, as amusement, and parried Aragon's first assault, then his follow up stab with the knife, before blocking Aragon's groin kick, then pushing him back with little more but the strength of his arm, using the sword as a lever.

Aragon struck again with his sword, but lost it to a contemptuous flick from the vagabond.  
A fleeting gesture, and a second knife flew from the other side of the clearing, behind Aragon to the vagabond's hand.  
_Aragon!_ Screamed Thelduin from above as she hurtled towards the ground.

The vagabond lunged with his sword, but Aragon blocked it aside with his knife before grabbing the vagabond's arm, wrenching him around, and pushing his arm up his back as hard and fast as he could, resulting in a satisfying _crack!_ as his shoulder dislocated, causing the vagabond to roar in agony, before heel-kicking Aragon in the shin, spinning and-

Aragon felt a flare of blinding agony in his heart, and he fell to his knees, as the vagabond retrieved his rider's sword, before vanishing in a cloud of black smoke, cackling maniacally, as agony wracked Aragon.

_Thelduin!_ Cried Aragon in anguish, as blackness edged his vision.  
_Hold on Aragon! Don't you dare die on me now! Hang on! Fight it!_ Shouted Thelduin at him, as Aragon slipped into unconsciousness, with the envenomed knife still lodged firmly in his heart.

**I did a little bit of editing here, making the fights a little more realistic, patching some grammar and spelling, the usual really, and of course, again with correcting the name of Vrael's dragon.**

**No One-liners.**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

The Tale of the River Dragons

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

For the rest of his life, Aragon could never remember what transpired after Galbatorix stabbed him through the heart.  
He only remembered Thelduin's plea for him not to give up, and not to die on her.  
The rest was blackness.  
Insensate, thoughtless, emotionless, blackness.

* * *

Thelduin stared at her rider, lying sprawled in the bloody mud, unmoving, with Galbatorix's envenomed blade embedded in his heart.  
A grating, pitiful, mewing sob escaped Thelduin as she collapsed to the dirt.

She didn't even remember the girl, who'd been on her back, who jumped clear as Thelduin fell, only to be grabbed by Vrael.  
Answers were still needed regarding her.

Thelduin didn't care, she couldn't feel her rider, her mind felt as if half of it had been ripped away, leaving only darkness where it should've been.

'Thelduin,' said Eragon softly, laying a hand on Thelduin's shoulder.  
Thelduin drew a deep, shuddering breath, and looked at Eragon with tear streaked eyes.  
She didn't see grief in Eragon's gaze, but determination.  
_What do you want?_ Asked Thelduin, unable to set aside her grief.

'Pick up his body Thelduin, then come stand with Bid'Daum and me, we will take you to a place where you may be able to save your rider, but it will all be down to you.' Said Eragon slowly and seriously.  
Wordlessly, Thelduin did so, then walked to stand by Bid'Daum as Eragon informed Vrael to tend to Dorian's and Seithrena's bodies.

In equal silence, Eragon laid a hand on Thelduin's and Bid'Daum's forelegs, and then they vanished with a _crack!  
_Thelduin felt like she was being rammed through a hole in a wall a fraction of her size, and could only imagine the feeling was worse for Bid'Daum, who was so much larger than her.

* * *

When they reappeared, they were a long way from Ilirea.

_Where are we?_ Asked Thelduin, awed despite herself, as she laid Aragon's body on a small rock shelf.  
_This is River's Meet._ Said Bid'Daum in a reverent tone.

_And what is so significant about this place?_ Asked Thelduin, beginning to suspect Eragon of simply bringing her to this place to grieve.  
Without warning, Bid'Daum took control of Thelduin's mind, and she was assaulted by the memory of a tale Bid'Daum had been told by the elder dragons of nearly two-thousand-five-hundred-and-ninety-four years previously.

* * *

_Watch and listen closely youngling, and you will see._ Said Bid'Daum

_Bid'Daum shifted restlessly as he waited for the ancient brown dragon before him to begin his tale, finding out all this about his heritage, and the history of his people was immensely interesting, but he wanted to be flying with Eragon more.  
_Be still, young one, The Tale of the River Dragons is long, and one of the most important tales of our people, and you would do well to heed my telling._ Said the old dragon, somewhat amused by his student's restlessness.  
__Then the dragon begun the tale:_

Long ago, when this land was young, after the Grey Folk bound magic to their tongue, and we were the sole custodians of this land, save the dwarves, there was a great dragon, in his prime, who held a vast territory, over the great forest to the north, all the way to the desert of the south.  
His name was Ramr, for he named that river for himself.

Despite his strength, which was legendary, and despite his great cunning, and the lustre of his scales, for which many dragonesses that shared his territory long wished to have him as a mate for, Ramr was as yet without a mate, and ignored the advances of every dragoness, preferring instead to try and woo a dragoness who's territory overlapped his at a small spring, who's name was Äenora.

No matter what Ramr tried, Äenora never payed heed to Ramr's advances.  
One day however, it came to pass that another young dragon, Jiet by name, claimed the spring as his own.  
Ramr was content to let the young dragon have the spring, and for a time afterward, all was peaceful.

Then, one unfortunate day, Äenora fell in love with Jiet, and a short time afterwards, bore Jiet a clutch of eggs.  
The next time Ramr tried to woo Äenora, she told him that Jiet was her mate.

Ramr flew into a blind rage, and Äenora fled before him, not wishing to face mighty Ramr in a fight, and soon came to the spring, which was the heart of Jiet's territory.  
From there, Jiet flew out and fought with Ramr, but he was still young, while Ramr was in his prime, and he grievously wounded Jiet, who was forced to flee, until he came at last to the south, far from Ramr's territory, where he lived for the rest of his days, and carved out a new territory for himself, naming the river at it's heart the Jiet, after himself.

Äenora however, stood firm at the spring before Ramr, galvanized to defend her eggs from Ramr's wrath.  
The battle they fought at that spring was titanic, but in the end, Äenora was beaten, her body broken by Ramr in his fury, who proceeded to smash her eggs for good measure.  
When Ramr finally calmed down, he saw what he had wrought and was wracked with guilt and grief.

With a mournful roar, he cast aside his mortal self, and bound himself to the river he'd named for himself, binding Äenora to a river to the north in the same manner.  
The spring, ever-after was known as River's Meet, and to this day, Ramr's pain at what he did lingers in that place, and ever he and Äenora have returned to lend aid to those parted before their time, so as to prevent such pointless destruction from ever occurring again.

_Bid'Daum frowned in confusion._

Why is this place called 'River's Meet' then?_ He asked.  
__The old dragon chuckled, _because, that was where that star-cross'd pair first met._ He said.  
_And, what does it mean 'lend aid to those parted before their time, so as to prevent such pointless destruction from ever occurring again'?' _Asked Bid'Daum.  
_It means, that if ever a dragon, who has lost one they hold dear to some heinous act, or simply to ill fortune, and if their feelings are deep enough, the lingering memory of Ramr's crime, and Äenora's sacrifice often are enough to allow us to perform inexplicable feats. _Answered the old dragon, and despite Bid'Daum's pestering, he couldn't get a clearer answer from the old dragon._

* * *

Bid'Daum released Thelduin's mind, and Thelduin looked around the clearing with a new eye, noting that no grass grew in the clearing, and the waters of the spring were mirror still, while rocks were strewn everywhere, as if from a fight.  
Then Thelduin looked down at Aragon's corpse, and her emotions hit fever pitch.

**No edit, except for the chapter number.**

**No One-liners.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

When The Sun Rises

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

With a howl of sorrow, grief and anger, Thelduin ripped the envenomed blade from Aragon's heart, and hurled it into a dead, and withered tree on the opposite side of the clearing.  
She noticed neither Bid'Daum, nor Eragon leave the clearing, so wrapped up in her emotions was she.

Looking once more upon her rider's broken body, she felt her sorrow and grief for his death,-along with the gaping wound that her link with him had occupied,-all the more acutely.  
_It's too soon! Our time together is ended far too soon! I wish I could do _SOMETHING! ANYTHING!  
With a heaving sob, tears welled in Thelduin's eyes, and unashamedly, she let them fall.  
She had just lost the closest being to her heart and soul there was ever going to be, she had reason to cry.  
Her tears landed upon Aragon's body, and upon the earth itself, one teardrop even falling, by some fluke onto a fragment of an egg smashed by Ramr, so many centuries before.

* * *

She didn't know how long she'd been crying.  
'til the ground was a muddy slush, till Aragon's body was clad in clothes so wet, he might as well have been dunked in the spring.  
The sun was setting.

Finally, Thelduin stopped crying.  
A dull ache was all that remained of her grief.  
All that remained of her sadness.

But her anger was burning with more intensity than fire ever could.  
Magma, lightning, the heart of the sun,-these things were mere candles compared to the raging _fury_, that occupied Thelduin's heart.  
_I will find you, traitor-oath-breaker-soul-slayer-egg-smasher-murderer, and I will drown you in your own black blood, as it pours from your withered-black-heart._ Thought Thelduin, and let loose a deafening roar, that could be heard by every living thing for miles in every direction.

Rabbits ran into their burrows and cowered in terror.  
Birds took to the wing, and scattered to the four winds.  
Ra'zac slunk back into their vile dens, and hid in fear.

And deep below the spring, creatures of the deep feasted upon the torrential emotion that poured from Thelduin, before scattering as it proved too much for them.  
Without realising it, Thelduin had entered the state where she could manipulate magic, such was the strength of her anger and grief, though she thought the latter spent.

Opening her eyes, and seeing Aragon's lifeless corpse again, Thelduin reached out and touched his body, this last time, placing his hands over his heart, resting his head till it looked towards the darkening sky, placing his legs, so that at a glance, he could've only been sleeping.

She looked in the mud as well, and noticed a fragment of a dragon's egg.  
_Such a sad tale…_ Thought Thelduin, placing her hand-like paw on the fragment absentmindedly, before withdrawing it after a moment.  
With a last shuddering sob, Thelduin left the clearing.

Too tired to be worried about revenge.  
And too emotionally spent to stay at the sorrow-tainted spring to sleep.

* * *

_Up until then, Aragon had known nothing but blackness in death.  
_Shade's Blood_, he thought to himself, before opening his eyes, and peering around.  
__He was lying sprawled in the middle of a grey wasteland, with a scarlet cloudbank, brooding, threatening, and crackling with lightning in the sky above.  
__Shaking his head in sorrow as he remembered that he and Thelduin were parted, Aragon stood shakily.  
__Much to his surprise, he was clothed in a grey gown, and was barefoot._

Jesse O'Malley, called Aragon the Grey._ Said a ghostly voice from behind Aragon.  
_Yeah…that's me,…why? _Asked Aragon hesitantly, already reaching for the magic, and to his alarm, being unable to find it._

I am Death, and I have come to guide you to the afterlife, Jesse O'Malley. _Said the voice, matter-of-factly.  
_Look, Death, I've got unfinished business…you know, back in the land of the living, so if you could do me just one small favour and let me off this one time, I mean, I'll eventually end up here again, so what's the loss-  
There are no second chances with Death; Fate has decreed that now is your time to die, your time to enter the land of the afterlife, and none can deny Fate's will. _Said Death, cutting off Aragon's attempt to reason with him.  
_Well, how about you go and guide someone _else's_ soul to the afterlife, then come back for me later, give Eragon the Scion, or Thelduin a chance to bring me back, you know, be a sport? _Tried Aragon again._

_Death chuckled nastily. _Such is always the way with you young dragon riders, you always protest how unfair your Fate is, always ask for a second chance to prove you can do better, but you are the first to ask for more time _here_; Fine, you cannot escape, and more than likely, the daemons of the Immaterium will come for you soon anyway, and spare me your incessant whining. _Said Death, then left.  
_Now, how do I get out of here?_ Asked Aragon of nothing in particular._

* * *

Aragon the Grey? _Asked a deep, rumbling voice from above and behind Aragon.  
_Okay, Death, if this is your idea of a joke, I'm going to take that scythe of yours and-  
I AM NOT DEATH! I AM RAMR, SPIRIT OF THE RAMR RIVER! _Roared the great spirit dragon, insulted._

Sorry, my mistake, what can I do for you? _Asked Aragon, embarrassed.  
_The one closest to your soul has invoked us to bring you back. _Said a deep, soft voice from the same source as Ramr's voice.  
__Aragon was about to ask something in confusion, but then the bleak scenery vanished with a rush, and there was a flash of light as he fell once more into darkness._

* * *

...

Pain.

* * *

That was the first thing he felt, as his body drew a great shuddering breath.  
His vision flashed, and all he saw was darkness, but all around, he could here the soft, but insistent _plink _of rain falling.  
He could feel the cold rain on his body, feel his sodden clothes, and feel the slick mud around him.  
He could taste a disgusting coppery taste on his tongue, and smell the scent of wet dust, the smell of rain on dry country.  
Then all the sensory information overloaded his readapting brain, and he blacked out.

* * *

That night it rained.

Still miserable, Thelduin simply got up and sought shelter in a cluster of rocks, a short distance from where she'd let herself fall to the ground to sleep.  
Wearily, she coiled up in the shelter of the rocks, and promptly fell asleep again.

* * *

Back in the clearing, as Aragon's body recovered, the egg fragment Thelduin had unwittingly spelled began to reform, first the harder-than-diamond shell reformed, before the unhatched dragon that had waited within so long ago, also was restored to it's previous stasis.

* * *

As the first promise, the first hint of dawn coloured the eastern sky, He awoke again, with a shuddering gasp, soaked to the skin, chilled to the bone, and weary almost unto death.

He had no memory of what had transpired after the incident at the grove.  
No memory as to how he came to be where he was.

With a strained groan, he rolled onto all fours, one hand slipping off of the smooth surface of a wet rock, causing him to fall face first into the mud.  
Picking himself up, and wiping mud, water and wet hair from his eyes, he looked at what had caused him to fall.

It was an egg, some foot in diameter, and it was a deep blue and snow white.  
He hesitated, this was a dragon's egg.  
Which meant it's parents were surely nearby, to offer some protection to it.  
But, then, it was still raining fit to flood, and it was cold.

With a resigned shrug, he picked up the egg and staggered off, away from the spring, occasionally falling, but always struggling back to his feet, remastering his body.  
He was hungry though. Hungry fit to faint.  
And thirst made him feel dry and hot as the Hadarac desert.

He was now some distance to where he'd started from, at the top of a small knoll.  
And without the energy to go on.  
With a weary sigh, he simply let himself fall into the mud, and roll onto his back, letting the egg slip from his hands, and look to the sky.

Then he blacked out.

* * *

Thelduin awoke as the sun brightened the dark night.  
It was not yet dawn, but dawn wasn't far off.  
It was still raining heavily, but it was beginning to brighten, so Thelduin decided it was time to be off.

_I should probably return to Ilirea, and from there, I shall proceed to track down that _murderer_ and kill him._ Thought Thelduin, then sat back on her haunches, and looked at her arms.  
The blue-green-grey growths upon her arms that had appeared when she was joined with Aragon were still there, along with the ones on the backs of her paws.

_I'll always remember you…_ Thought Thelduin sadly to herself, flashing back through the times she'd shared with her rider:

_Watching as Aragon sparred with Elmïra that first time…_

_Complaining along with Aragon as she and him worked at Vrael's laundry._

_Resting on a rare day off, in their quarters in Elmïra's tree-house, talking._

_Flying overhead with Infernia and Marinæ, as below on the summit path, Aragon, Jarren and Sarah walked along, talking, comparing notes, joking, laughing and enjoying each other's company._

_Flying from Anarch and Saphira, before discovering how to size-shift, and hiding from Saphira by hiding on her saddle, as below, Morzan and Brom caught up with Aragon, before Aragon punched Morzan in the face, and split his lip, only to be tripped up by Brom._

_Just the morning before, chasing the thief-girl over the rooftops of Ilirea._

_We've been through some good times, haven't we? _Asked Aragon, in a groggy, and slurred mental voice.  
Thelduin jerked up so fast she cracked her head on the overhanging rock.  
_Aragon? _She asked in shock, ignoring her pain.  
_Oh thank the stars, I thought I was dreaming._ Said Aragon, his mental voice sounding dopey and not all there.

Without pausing to ask further questions, Thelduin shot into the air, and flew back to the spring, only to find that Aragon had gone.  
And there was only one set of prints in the mud, alongside some signs of a person scrabbling in the mud.

Following the tracks in the steadily improving light, Thelduin traced Aragon's meandering route, until she came back to the hill, with the rocks facing southward where she'd laired for the night.  
And sitting propped against a up thrusting standing stone…

'Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes.' Panted Aragon, shivering from the cold.  
_Aragon!_ Yelled Thelduin joyfully, before picking him up in her paws, and hugging him against her, as tight as she dared.

_Thelduin, it's good to see you as well, but, you mind putting me down, before you suffocate me?_ Asked Aragon, his voice still sounding slurred and lethargic, but with an edge to it.  
_Sorry._ Said Thelduin, and curled up against the standing stone, also looking east.  
She shifted uncomfortably, and the dragon egg rolled out from under her.

_Where did that come from?_ Wondered Thelduin, and Aragon glanced bleary eyed at the egg.  
'Oh, I found that next to me at that spring where I woke up, I figured I'd take it with me, and find a more comfortable place for it, you know, for when it's parent's come back for it.' Said Aragon blearily.  
Thelduin said nothing, but after a moment, Aragon could feel an up-welling of sorrow and relief, and before he knew it, Thelduin was crying, showering him in hot tears, and soaking him even more.  
'It isn't _that_ sad.' Said Aragon acidly, as he shivered, and pulled his sodden clothes tighter around himself in a vain attempt at warmth.  
After a moment, Thelduin regained control of her emotions, and like a mother with her hatchling, coiled around Aragon, to provide him with warmth, and there they sat as the sun rose.

**No edit was done here except to fix a weak sentence or two.**

**No One-liners.**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Heading For Home

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

Thelduin and Aragon watched the sun rise together, then Aragon snapped straight to their current predicament.  
_Thelduin, I am weary, so hungry that this standing stone is starting to look tasty, and so thirsty I could drink the Ramr river dry, and along with that, I'm in need of a bath, do you think you could lend me your strength so I don't die of exhaustion? _Asked Aragon.  
_Aragon, you're dramatising; yes, you are weary, I can feel it, yes you need a bath, I can smell it, and yes you are hungry and thirsty, this I can also feel, the only reason you feel it so acutely is because you are readjusting to your body, and to life once more. _Explained Thelduin, with a hint of a amusement, and a low chuckle.  
But still, she lent him her strength, and Aragon stood, shivering from being soaked through, but still, he picked up the unhatched dragon egg once more.

_What shall we do with this egg?_ Asked Aragon of Thelduin.  
_We will take this one with us, his sire and dam are long dead by many centuries, dead even before the coming of the elves, there is nothing for that egg here._ Said Thelduin, refusing to elaborate.  
She had no wish to recount the Tale of the River Dragons, and she had a feeling it was a piece of dragon lore that she could only reveal to another of her kind.  
She also suspected that Eragon had only brought her to River's Meet on nothing more than Bid'Daum's advice.

Heeding Thelduin, Aragon quickly placed the egg in his saddle bags.  
Afterward, he found a stony depression in the ground, and coalesced the rain water from the night before into the ground, until the small hollow was full.  
At his word, the water was hot enough to bathe in.  
Thelduin set out to hunt for food, but before she did, Aragon removed a fresh change of clothes from his saddle bags.

It would've been suicide to put on his soaked clothes again, and he was damned if he was going to sit out in the wilds, completely naked waiting for Thelduin to return.  
He washed quickly, not wanting the water to chill, washing the dried mud from his hair and body.

While he was doing this, he noted that his muscles were more prominent, and corded, a far cry from the underfed, skin-and-bones urchin he'd been not seven months previously.

Along with that, he had a new scar, directly over his heart.  
It was still red with inflammation, and was sore to touch, but was little more than a slightly glossy, smooth patch of skin, slightly more prominent than the surrounding tissue.  
It was the scar of where Galbatorix had stabbed him, and Aragon knew that he would bear that scar for as long as he lived.

Aragon dried quickly when he finished bathing, and quickly pulled on his dry clothes, before drying out his boots with a quick improvised spell.  
His vision flashed grey as he was forced to delve into his own meagre supply of energy, and he barely had the energy to finish dressing.

He managed, and lit a fire, before releasing his bath water to drain away back into the soil.  
When Thelduin returned, the fire was crackling merrily, and Aragon had even rigged a small stove, so he could cook the meat.

Thelduin obliged, and quickly hacked a chunk of meat off of her kill with her talons, Aragon was fairly sure the kill was a boar, but he couldn't tell, because it was half eaten, and missing it's head.  
He speared the meat on a long skewer from his camping gear, and placed it over the smouldering coals, before turning his attention to their surroundings.

Off to the north-east, he could make out, from practically due north, to the eastern horizon, Du Welden Varden, but from the north westward, he could make out tanned grassland, with the odd stream, copse of trees and hills.  
The heartlands of the Broddring Kingdom.  
To the south-east, he could just make out on the horizon the Ramr river, and beyond that, the Hadarac desert.  
Southward was lake Isenstar, and westward was the Great Plain.

_We're pretty much, more or less exactly, lost in the approximate middle of bloody nowhere._ Summarised Aragon to Thelduin sourly.  
He drank his water-skin half dry before his breakfast was cooked, and he finished the meat almost simultaneously with Thelduin.  
_Oh, that was a marvellous meal._ Said Thelduin, as she stretched herself in the early morning sun.  
_So, what do we do now? Head back to Ilirea, or get a day or two of rest before we head back? _Asked Aragon of Thelduin.  
_I think we should contact Eragon, and inform him that you're once more alive and well, and after that we should proceed back to Ilirea, although, we could take our time, this is pretty much the first time we've been left to ourselves for any length of time, I also think we should use this time to get to know each other. _Replied Thelduin.  
_I'm _sure_ you didn't intend that to sound as wrong as it did._ Joked Aragon, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face.  
The whistling of Thelduin's tail-mane through the air was the only warning he got, before Thelduin decked him across the back of the head with it, knocking him, for the second time that day, face first into the mud.

* * *

That evening, they were many leagues from River's Meet, following a small road southward.  
When they stopped, the first thing Aragon did was take a small mirror from Thelduin's saddle bags, and draw some of Thelduin's strength, before breaching the barrier in his mind, and entering the magic.

'Draumr kòpr,' intoned Aragon, along with a variation of the spell that allowed him to communicate with others at a distance, while picturing Eragon in his mind.  
The mirror's surface went black, then resolved into a scene of Eragon and Bid'Daum, sitting in a large room by themselves.

'Ebrithil.' Said Aragon clearly, and saw Eragon jerk around, and look directly at whatever his surroundings were projected on, presumably a mirror of some description.  
He ran over, drew his wand, and muttered an incantation to himself, and the wand tip flared to light, and he peered into whatever he used for scrying communication, and looked at Aragon closely.

'By all the magic in Alagaësia…' Said Eragon, and Aragon, for the first time in his life, saw an adult elf dumbstruck.  
'You're alive…how is this- no magic can bring back the dead…' Said Eragon, mostly to himself.  
'Glad to see you too master.' Said Aragon with a hint of sarcasm.

Eragon shook his head. 'I'm sorry Aragon, but I didn't quite believe that Thelduin would be able to invoke a resurrection, it is good to see you alive once more, you'll probably be glad to hear you've got the Riders in an uproar, Vrael has sent every Rider without an apprentice, or on stand-by rider on a witch hunt, they're looking for Galbatorix, your 'murderer', and also Dorian's murderer; aside from that, Vrael, Dalemore, Oromis and Elmïra are currently seeing to Dorian's and Seithrena's bodies; but enough about what's going on here, please, tell me, how are you alive, after being stabbed in the heart with an envenomed blade?' Asked Eragon.

Aragon shrugged. 'You've got me master, you'd have to ask Thelduin, or master Bid'Daum, Thelduin did the deed, but according to her, Bid'Daum is the one who convinced her too, but your guess is as good as mine as to how; on another note, when I did come back round, I found a dragon egg next to me, and according to Thelduin, it's parents were dead before the elves came across the sea, what should we do with it? Bring it back to Ilirea with us, or leave it in the wild, and let the dragon within forge out it's own destiny?' Asked Aragon.

Eragon cocked his head and considered.  
'Bring it back with you, if it's parents have been dead that long, and you found that egg at River's Meet, it's probably better if this dragon were to become a member of our order, Bid'Daum hasn't deigned to tell me the tale behind River's Meet, but I do know that most dragons avoid the place, also, proceed back here as fast as you can, your survival of this debacle is going to cause mayhem, as Vrael has already told everyone you're dead, I'll pass on news of your survival, but you'll have to get back here soon. Remain unseen, when you get to Ilirea, sneak in, and come find me first, it would be unfortunate if you met someone who recognized you, and thought you were a necromancer's puppet or some such; I shall check in on you if there is a development, or if Vrael wishes to speak with you' Said Eragon.

'Yes master, as you wish.' Said Aragon, then terminated the spell.  
_Looks like we'll be taking the long road home._ Aragon commented to Thelduin.  
_Look on the bright side, you've got that much more time to recover your strength._ Said Thelduin brightly.  
_I hardly think travelling on foot, for leagues on end, at half strength, with only a pair of daggers, a wrist-bow, magic and some rusty martial arts skills, could be considered 'restful.'_ Replied Aragon with a sigh, then let the matter drop, as he built a small fire, which he lit with a tinder-box to save his and Thelduin's strength.

_Stop complaining, and cook yourself something to eat Aragon, we've got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow._ Scolded Thelduin as Aragon succeeded lighting the fire, and set about building a stove to cook with.  
His meal was cooked quickly, and Aragon ate it quickly, before banking the fire, rolling out his bedding beside Thelduin, taking a last drink, and laid down, ready to sleep.  
_Sleep, friend-of-my-soul, I will not let any harm befall you while you sleep._ Promised Thelduin as she coiled around Aragon.  
Within moments, he was asleep.

* * *

That night, Aragon dreamt.

_He was in a pitch black cave.  
__In the distance somewhere, a drop of water fell into a still pool, setting off a quiet echo throughout the black silence.  
__He felt movement behind him, and lashed out blindly with a back-kick, but it met empty air.  
_'Who's there? Show yourself!'_ He called, and his voice echoed back, ghostly and mocking.  
__He walked around blindly, before his foot struck something, which clattered off the stone, producing yet another echo.  
__From the sound of it, it was wood of some description.  
__He quickly took up the wood, and set it alight with a muttered '_Brisingr'_, setting the shadows dancing.  
__As he turned back around, he found himself facing a pair of solid red eyes-_

* * *

He jerked awake, drenched in cold sweat, his heart hammering, and in the icy grip of adrenalin.  
He panted heavily, looking around wildly, and saw by the stars it was a few hours before dawn.  
Beside him, Thelduin stirred awake.

_Do not fear Aragon, it was just a dream, nothing more._ Soothed Thelduin gently, nudging him with her snout softly.  
Aragon wiped his sweaty brow shakily.  
_Yeah, it was just a dream; still, the night is nearly done, we might as well make the most of an early start._

**Again, nothing much changed here, though I think I might've done some correction on some of these chapters a while back, 'cause there aren't as many mistakes as I thought there'd be.**

**No One-liners.**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-one

Repercussions

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

Aragon sighed as he stood from where he'd been kneeling beside the river, and quickly dried his hands on his breeches.

He sighed again, and looked back to the brook again, and took an involuntary backwards step when he found that it was no longer the silvery flowing water it had been, but a mirror smooth plane, through which Eragon was watching him.

Aragon hastily touched his fore and middle fingers together on his lips, before beginning the traditional elven greeting.  
'Atra esterní ono thelduin.'  
'Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr.' Replied Eragon.  
Deeming the third line of the greeting irrelevant at the present moment, Aragon cut straight to the heart of the matter with all the subtlety of a war hammer.

'What's changed master? Do you have fresh news?' Asked Aragon, before Eragon could speak.  
The old elf gave Aragon an amused look.  
'I see that apprenticing you under Elmïra wasn't the brightest thing I've ever done; you're learning her mannerisms as well as her skills.' Said Eragon dryly.  
Aragon remained silent, then asked. 'But what news do you have master?'  
Eragon sighed and muttered a quiet curse to himself.  
Aragon didn't hear all of it, but he heard 'impatience of youth' mentioned, and drew his own conclusions.

'I take it from the scenery around where you are, you're about a day's flight from the Ninor river, in which case, I think I'd best warn you that there have been reports of people going missing in the region, but no bodies being found; we're not sure yet if it's Ra'zac, a shade, urgals or slavers, or- and I don't think this likely,- a dragon that's developed a taste for human flesh.' Finished Eragon grimly.  
Aragon looked revolted at hearing the last possibility, but the other ones were likely enough, and he felt himself pale at the possibilities.  
'Anything else?' Asked Aragon weakly.

'Yes, I sent Jarren and Sarah to investigate, and they know you're out there as well, if you find each other, I've given them instructions to help you and Thelduin back to the city as quickly as is humanly and draconically possible.' Said Eragon brightly.  
'As for you, Aragon, your orders remain unchanged: You and Thelduin are to make all speed back to Ilirea.' Finished Eragon.

'Yes master, we're heading back as fast as we can, another day or two and we'll be there; Just one question, have you told everyone of my survival?' Asked Aragon tentatively.  
Eragon gave a small chuckle. 'Never fear, I've put the word out, and everyone is satisfied with my recollection of our last talk for the most part, but actually seeing you alive in person seems to be the only way to convince everyone I'm not telling them a lot of blood-and-thunder.' He explained.  
'We will return with all speed.' Promised Aragon.  
Eragon nodded once. 'Very good.' He said, then terminated the spell.

* * *

Aragon wearily made his way back into the small camp he and Thelduin had cleared.  
A small fire was crackling, and curled beneath the shade of a tree was Thelduin.

Aragon couldn't help but smile to himself as he saw the scene, beautiful simply by it's peacefulness and simplicity.  
Thelduin raised her head as Aragon entered the clearing, and then proceeded to place the rabbits he'd hunted over the coals to cook.

_Aragon,_ said Thelduin seriously.  
_Yes Thelduin?_ Asked Aragon.  
_We need to talk._ Replied Thelduin.  
_We are talking, or did you have a specific topic in mind?_ Asked Aragon.  
_Come, walk with me Aragon, this isn't the sought of thing we should discuss sitting down._ Said Thelduin, crouching down.  
Aragon climbed onto Thelduin's back, and took his usual place just below her shoulders, before laying on his back and looking to the sky.  
_Are you comfortable back there?_ Asked Thelduin dryly.  
_I'd love some mulled cider, but yes, I am immensely comfortable._ Said Aragon in all seriousness, as Thelduin walked out of camp, back towards the river.

_So what do you want to talk about?_ Asked Aragon curiously.  
Silence was all the answer he got for a moment.  
_You need to be more careful._ Said Thelduin quietly.  
_Huh?_ Asked Aragon confused.  
_Aragon, it isn't just thoughts and feelings we share, when you broke your leg a month back, I felt it, when Morzan was tormenting you, I felt it every time you jarred your leg, when that girl kicked you between the legs,-even though it wouldn't have affected me usually, being female,- I felt it, and when that traitor stabbed you in the heart, I felt it, and I felt all the agony of it as you died, before finally all I was left with was darkness; I have suffered much because of you, either through your own ineptness, recklessness, bad fortune, or some other trait of yours that leads to you getting into tight spots; In short, we share pain as well._ Explained Thelduin.  
_Fairs fair, what about all the times _you've_ hurt yourself and I've felt it?_ Asked Aragon.  
_Name one time when I have been injured to the same extent as you._ Challenged Thelduin.  
_When that Ra'zac hit you, when Mûnnguldûr blind-sided us and we ended up fighting him._ Said Aragon after a moment.  
_Damn it Aragon, I don't _ever_ want to lose you like I did the other day again, it was horrible, it felt like half of me had died with you, and I don't ever want to feel that way again._ Said Thelduin, finally losing her temper and upsetting Aragon's balance, before pinning him to the ground, so he had to look her in the eyes.

That was when Aragon figuratively sat up and paid attention.  
Despite her wont to deck him with her tail when he said or did something she considered foolish, wake him up on cold mornings by up-ending his bed, or paradoxically, pulling him close to her warm belly and coiling her tail around him when he attempted to do the waking, Thelduin had _never_ done anything in true malice to him.  
The fact she'd thrown him off her back, then pinned him with her talons made abundantly clear to Aragon just how distraught Thelduin had been, and how worried she was that it would happen again.

Now that Aragon actually looked back over his actions, he saw that Thelduin had a fair point: most of the times he'd ended up injured, it'd been his own fault.  
_Alright, I see what you mean, I'll start being more careful, but for the love of Vroengard, don't start playing nurse-maid, it's not as if I can't take care of myself._ Said Aragon.  
_Promise?_ Asked Thelduin, her talons tightening, and the weight on Aragon's chest increasing fractionally.  
_Is that really nescessary? _Asked Aragon.

Thelduin nodded slowly.  
'Alright, I promise I will start being more careful.' Said Aragon with a sigh.  
_Good enough._ Said Thelduin, and let Aragon to his feet.

**Yet again, no change.**

**No One-liners.**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Blood and Love

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

The sound of a man screaming in agony, and the feeling of fever-hot, sticky blood on his skin roused Aragon, and he lashed out blindly, striking someone, or something, hard, and causing who or whatever it was to give a high pitched squeal of pain.  
Blindly drawing a knife, and blinking in the near-darkness, Aragon saw someone loom before him with a rust speckled sword.  
Aragon stabbed at the figure's torso, and felt the blade drive home into yielding flesh.  
The figure screamed as Aragon twisted the knife, before drawing it free, and wrenching the badly maintained sword from it's previous master's nerveless hand.

A gout of fire lit the scene.  
Arrayed around the camp were twelve slavers.

Eight others lay dead around Aragon.  
As he watched, an arrow whistled out of the dark and took one of the attackers in the chest.  
Then another figure appeared behind the ambushers, with a two-handed war hammer with a flanged head in his grip, which he swung into one of the men's back with a gristly crunch.

Then from both sides of the clearing, a dragon jumped in, pinning the men around the camp fire.  
On instinct, Aragon jumped back into Thelduin's shadow, as the two dragons lit the remaining seven attackers up like a bonfire, flash-frying their brains before the flames consumed them.  
A mostly painless way to die.

Aragon stood shakily.  
'Thanks for the save there.' He said with real feeling.

The man wielding the hammer approached, and carefully skirted the smouldering patch of scorched earth and charred bodies that was where the aggressors had been standing.  
'What are friends for, eh Aragon?' Asked the man, sticking the butt of the hammer's haft into the dirt and leaning on it, hands clasped between two of the flanges.  
'Holy Hellfire Jarren, I didn't recognise you for a second there.' Said Aragon, before pulling his friend into a rough embrace.  
'You've bulked out since I last saw you.' He explained.

It was true; Jarren had put on some weight since Aragon had last seen him, and all of it was hard muscle.  
'It's damn well good to see you too Aragon, but you look as pale as a sheet and as gaunt as when you showed up uninvited to the Choosing.' Replied Jarren.  
'So, what was all that about? Those bastards bandits?' Asked Aragon, indicating with the rusty sword the charred corpses.

Jarren spat on the smouldering carcasses.  
'No, they were slavers, there's a big mob of the bastards operating around the plains and in the desert, bugger-all Sarah and I can do about it, and what with everyone chasing the bastard who killed Dorian, and…half-way killed you, nothing much we can do but report back I 'spose.' Answered Jarren, seeming rather dissatisfied to Aragon.

It was a sentiment Aragon could empathise with: The second night he'd been on the streets after the Ward had thrown him out, he'd nearly been grabbed by a stranger in the street; it wasn't unknown for the opportunistic to try and capture a street-kid and sell them off as a slave.  
He'd only escaped by the skin of his teeth, and had quickly learned how to fight afterwards.  
Aragon nodded in understanding, then changed the subject.

'Well, shall we stay the remainder of the night here, or shall Thelduin and I accompany you back to your camp?'  
Jarren gave a snort of laughter.  
'We never stopped to set one up, so I reckon Sarah and I are best off stickin' with you for the night, that way we can set watches, and we can all get some shut-eye.' Replied Jarren, going over to the fiery-scaled dragon, that Aragon now recognised as Infernia.

'So, where's Sarah now then?' Asked Aragon, as he recognised the other dragon as Marinæ.  
'Right behind you,' said Sarah in his ear.  
Aragon jumped violently, and dropped his recently acquired sword.  
'Bloody hell!' He swore.

_Why didn't you _warn_ me she was there?_ Asked Aragon of Thelduin.  
_She wasn't going to kill you, and I wanted to see how high you'd jump._ Replied Thelduin, who was busily coiling herself up tighter so she wouldn't end up entangled with Marinæ or Infernia.  
_And just how high _did_ I jump?_ Asked Aragon, crossing his arms, and giving Thelduin a look of cool dignity.  
_About a foot; maybe two._ Replied Thelduin, oblivious to the sarcasm in Aragon's tone.  
Aragon chose to ignore Thelduin's ribbing.

'A pleasure to see you again Sarah, I see your skill with the bow has increased,' said Aragon politely, motioning to the graceful longbow Sarah held loosely by her side as she checked Marinæ over for injuries.  
Sarah gave him a mischievous smile.  
'And your penchant for getting into trouble has gotten worse,' she said with amusement.  
_It can only get better from here, after all, you cannot do worse than die, unless you become a Shade, which isn't likely to happen, considering that riders are forbidden from learning sorcery._ Said Thelduin, now settled comfortably. _It is good to see you two again, Infernia, Marinæ._ Said Thelduin to the other two dragons.  
_Likewise Thelduin,_ replied Infernia warmly.

Marinæ gave a friendly rumble, but remained silent, before busying himself cleaning his talons.  
'Oh come on Marinæ, it's not like Thelduin's asking you for a clutch of eggs,' scolded Sarah jokingly, before settling against her partner's side.  
Jarren chuckled quietly to himself, 'Marinæ's been acting like that for about two months now: every time Infernia speaks with him, he gets all shy and unintelligible,' explained Jarren upon catching Aragon's raised eyebrow.

Aragon snorted, 'funnily enough, that about fits the time-frame for when Thelduin started falling for Anarch,' he commented.  
'Well that explains it then, it's not Marinæ acting weird, the mating season must've started,' mused Sarah with a look of realisation dawning on her.  
'Marinæ, you aren't tongue-tied around Infernia because you're falling for her are you?' Asked Sarah with an amused look.  
…._I might be._ Came the evasive reply.

* * *

The night passed relatively quickly, the group taking it in turns to keep watch, except for Aragon, who was let off on the reasoning he needed his rest after the resurrection, even if it was nearly three days past.  
Still, the next morning, it was no rest for the wicked as usual, and Aragon was woken by the base of Jarren's hammer.  
'Rise 'n' shine princess,' he said as he nudged Aragon.

The day was spent flying, heading with all speed for Ilirea.  
_So, aside from what Eragon told me, anything else happen that I should be aware of?_ Asked Aragon curiously.  
_Well, that bastard Kialandí, and his pal Morzan were strutting all around the city saying 'good riddance to bad rubbish', _recounted Jarren.  
_Irrelevant, I don't give half a damn what they think of me._ Said Aragon.  
_Whoa, death made you all serious-like Aragon, don't you usually say something witty?_ Replied Jarren.  
_It happens, and I'm still pretty damn weary, not to mention pissed as hell.  
__Heh, that's catchy: Back from the dead, and pissed as hell._

_Anyway, _said Aragon dragging the conversation back on course,_ what else?  
__Elmïra damn near tried to cast a spell to take her directly to Galbatorix's bolt-hole so she could kill him herself,_ supplied Sarah.  
_Yeah, she _really _lost it, if Teclian hadn't pinned her down, she probably would've torn Alagaësia apart trying to find that bastard._ Added Jarren.  
_Whoa…anything else? Oh yeah, what happened to that thief-girl?_ Asked Aragon, remembering.

_She's under heavy guard, apparently with Elmïra at present; I reckon she wants to apologise for getting you killed._ Said Jarren.  
_That's horse-manure, and you know it,_ interjected Infernia. _She wants to know if you'll have her on for odd-jobs, apparently if she can't be a rider, she's willing to be a rider's page._

Aragon broke the contact, and withdrew to his own mind, projecting his surprise by way of reason for his withdrawal from the conversation.  
_Bloody hell!_ Thought Aragon.  
_Aragon, if you develop feelings for that girl, and I'll drop you on your head._ Promised Thelduin.  
_Says the she-dragon with the crush on the dragon of one of my most ardent haters._ Shot Aragon back.  
_For the last time…Actually, you know what? I'm not even going to answer that._ Replied Thelduin, and left Aragon to himself.

**No One-liners.**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Of Justice and Charity

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

Aragon was deeply grateful to see Ilirea again.  
He was even more deeply relieved to find that not only had Elmïra found lodgings in Ilirea away from Oromis',- thus eliminating having to see Morzan,- but that he was allowed a day's rest before he had to give answers.  
His first act,-after bidding a good day to Jarren and Sarah, and then extricating himself from Elmïra's bone-crushing hug,-which surprised Aragon more than anything else,- was to stagger into his new quarters, hunt out a fresh change of clothes, run himself a bath, then collapse into the steaming hot water with a contented sigh.

_A little over eight months ago and you would never have been caught near a bath, and now here you are savouring it like a well-matured wine._ Observed Thelduin with some amusement from where she was coiled up on her dais.  
_Things happen, in this case I became your rider, and as a consequence of my training under Elmïra I've learned to enjoy baths as a way to unwind and relax._ Replied Aragon with the air of someone enjoying themselves deeply.  
_You mean you got used to them when Elmïra made clear you were bathing or sleeping outside._ Replied Thelduin with dry amusement.

* * *

'Well,' began Vrael from the head of the table, 'thank you Aragon, but it appears you can't provide any answers about how you came to be bewitched, or how you managed to come back from the dead like that; however, I think I can safely say that I am impressed with how your training goes, evidently your studies under Eragon and Elmïra are going extremely well.' He said.  
'Master?' Asked Aragon, frowning. 'Err…not to put to fine a point on it, but that vagabond…you know, _killed_ me,' he said.

'Yes, and before he did, you dislocated his shoulder, he was a former Rider himself, and one of the youngest to complete our training, not to mention one of our most gifted; the fact you even hurt him that much before he killed you bespeaks that you're a fighter of rare skill,' replied Vrael.  
'That's not to say,' broke in Elmïra, 'that it's all down to you. Far from it, if you were to fight a more experienced practitioner of martial arts, they'd be able to beat you inside of ten seconds, but there's no doubt that you do have talent, just not _that_ much,-the martial way can,-with time and practice,- turn even the most unhandy idiot into a deadly fighter.' She said.  
'Yeah, you only have to look in the mirror to see that Elmïra,' said Dalemore with a smirk.  
This earned a,-very quiet,- chuckle from Oromis and Vrael, and a death-glare from Elmïra.

'Alright, enough of this horse play,' said Eragon, cutting over what was most likely going to be a rather coarse retort. 'We still need to find Aragon a task to complete to show how far he's come, and after the debacle the last one turned out to be, I don't feel all that confident in saying he passed or failed.' He added.  
_We believe that it may be, as he is so much older than the average novice, that we should set him a harder task; perhaps tracking the slavers rumoured to be operating between the Hadarac and the Beors?_ Suggested Bid'Daum for all to hear.

_If Elmïra and Teclian failed to find the lair of those vermin, what chance do you suppose their _apprentices_ stand?_ Asked Umaroth shaking his ponderous head at the suggestion.  
'That they'd actually _find_ the slavers, if they can't hear wings beating, I'd say they get pretty damn cocky; and if that's the case, maybe my two apprentices can track them,' answered Elmïra, crossing her arms and looking up at the old dragon coolly.

The table was silent for a long while, and during that time Aragon didn't know if he wanted them to say 'yes', because it'd mean he was a long way from Morzan and Kialandì,-who evidently planned on turning the younger riders against him,- or 'no', because he was so downright tired after his unexpected death, resurrection and journey home; not to mention that it would mean he and Thelduin would have to complete the task alone, as well as face the dangers the journey entailed alone: Ra'zac, wild dragons, urgals, wild animals, Shades, not to mention the slavers, as well as common bandits.

'Well…' said Vrael at last, 'fine, I give in, Novice Aragon, your new assignment will be to locate the slavers known as 'The Phantoms'; as their name suggests they're elusive, and they've evaded many Riders before you; you will leave for this quest in a week's time. Do as you will until then, and if you so choose, you may ask a companion along,' he added.  
'As you wish, Master Vrael.' Said Aragon with a bow, before backing out of the room.

When the doors banged shut behind him, he immediately went to Thelduin, and sat down looking rather dejected on one of the coils of her tail.  
'Well Thelduin, looks like we're going to the Beor Mountain foothills.' He said faintly.  
_But we get the week off; and by the time we get back, Morzan and Kialandì will have forgotten what they were trying to pin on us._ Replied Thelduin, nudging Aragon with a talon.  
_Here's hoping._ Replied Aragon, already planning on how to use the upcoming week.

* * *

The next day, Aragon was in the middle of reading a copy of _The Lay of Umhodan_, when he was interrupted by Elmïra.  
'We need to talk.' She stated flatly, after snapping her fingers under Aragon's nose.  
'You didn't need to do that you know,' said Aragon in annoyance, before putting the scroll aside and standing.  
_Why've you stopped reading? We were just getting to my favourite part._ Asked Thelduin in annoyance, flicking open one of her blue-green eyes.  
'Come on, I think it's about time someone enlightened you as to what's happening with this girl who got you and Dorian killed,' said Elmïra, walking to the door.  
Well versed in their elven teacher's quirks, cues and mannerisms, Aragon wordlessly followed, and after an annoyed huff, Thelduin shrunk herself and flew after them, alighting on Aragon's shoulder as he closed the door.

They walked in silence a long while through the streets, before coming at last to one of Ilirea's landmarks: The Tower of Gilderian.  
Ostensibly one of the most complete libraries in Alagaësia, it also featured a spiral path along it's outside.  
This is where Elmïra finally broke the silence.

'Usually when something like this happens, we leave it up to whichever part of a pair is left alive to punish a transgression like this,' she began, 'however, your ressurection leaves us a thorny problem: Seithrena doesn't blame the girl so much as Galbatorix and his pet Shades, same with Thelduin and yourself, but we still need to punish the girl for stealing the egg and starting the whole thing in the first place, and as you're back from the dead, the council decided to leave the girl's punishment at your's and Thelduin's door.'  
Aragon was silent for a long while, not even speaking with Thelduin.

As they came to a bench, he stopped and took a seat.  
'I can't really blame her for stealing the egg.' Stated Aragon baldly to Elmïra after he'd sat down.  
'Oh?' She asked, 'why?'  
'Because…' he broke off. 'Because, if Dorian had've succeeded in throwing me out of the hall, I would've gone after an egg regardless; Another year on the streets probably would've killed me, I don't think even having to fight Teclian would've stopped me.' Aragon answered.

'So you understand her motives and feel a kinship with her?' Pressed Elmïra.  
Aragon nodded once.  
'Yes, although that doesn't mean that I think she shouldn't be punished,-dying was very unpleasant,- but I think death is a little extreme a punishment…' He trailed off.

Then an idea struck him.  
'Is there a mark of high shame among the riders?' He enquired curiously.

* * *

When she awoke, still in the same bare stone cell, it was,-as usual,- because someone had opened the door.  
With deep reluctance, she opened her eyes, sat up, and pushed her hair back over her shoulder, to come face to face with none other than the _rider who got stabbed in the heart._

'And so we meet again, for the third time I believe, and to recap: the first time you kicked me in the groin, and the second time I ended up getting stabbed and dying; most people in my position would probably really want to kill you.' Said the rider flatly, and crossing his arms when he finished.  
'But let me guess:' she said venomously, '_you've_ got a much _better_ idea, like using me as your whore maybe?' she asked, doing her utmost to try and get him to kill her quickly.  
In a single motion, the rider crossed the distance between them, and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

'No.' He said quietly, 'I was actually thinking about giving you what you originally wanted, but if you'd prefer-' she didn't listen any further, and slapped him hard across the face, causing him to fall to the ground in surprise.  
'A simple 'no,' would've sufficed, but how about it? Still want to be a dragon rider?' Asked the rider.

'You haven't even said who you are!' She snapped.  
The rider hesitated. 'I suppose I'd best tell you who you're responsible for causing the death of, and necessitating the resurrection of; My name is Aragon the Grey.' He said. 'And who might you be, aside from the architect of a great deal of my recent discomfort?' He asked in turn.  
She looked away, and muttered something about 'not having a name.'  
'Not one you like at any rate,' said Aragon dryly, 'Katherine Wilde.'

When Aragon said her name, she stiffened.  
Then attempted to claw his throat out, only to be tackled against the wall by a very strange looking dragon, then pinned by it's forehand.

'You could forge a new name and life for yourself as a rider, although after that, I think I will see to it you bear a mark of shame for causing the death of Dorian Staves and his partner; not to mention mine.' Said Aragon.  
'Stop mocking me! I know you only really want to get inside me like every other guy I've met, so don't insult my intelligence!' Screamed Katherine in anger.

'I'm not mocking you,' said Aragon mildly, 'I want to know how badly you want to be a rider.' He explained.  
Katherine snarled maniacally, and there was something truly savage and desperate in her gaze.  
'I'd kill for the chance; and according to you I've already done so twice.' She spat.  
'Three times actually, but are you willing to endure hardship? Prejudice? Ostracism? Suspicion? Hatred?'  
'What in Angvard's name do you think I've gone through in the past eight years since the Riders freed me from slavery then left to rot in the gutters of Dras Leona? It can't be any worse than that!' Shouted Katherine, trying to wriggle from between Thelduin's talons, and ultimately failing.

Aragon was silent.  
'I'll let you cool off for a bit I think, tomorrow though, we shall see if that egg you stole wants you.' Aragon said mildly, and left the room, Thelduin alighting on his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

Katherine gave a shriek of frustration, and punched the wall, immediately wishing she hadn't.  
Then it hit her what Aragon was doing for her and she slumped onto her cot in shock.  
_There'll be a hitch though, in a deal like this, there _has_ to be a hitch._ She realised.  
What that hitch was to be, she wouldn't find out until the next day.

**Again, the only real change here was changing the name of Vrael's dragon from 'Freidain', to 'Umaroth'.**

**No One-liners. (This still applies with any review you may wish to give regarding this story.)**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Faith Encarmine

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

'You do realise that every person who has ever wielded this blade has died by it? It's wyrd is a dark one, do you really believe that it is wise to force this on this girl?' Asked Eragon, making a series of gestures over a casket of jet as part of it's unlocking ritual.  
'I realise that master, but the girl's punishment was left at my doorstep, and I do feel a kinship with her, and if she'll eventually die by this sword, so be it, you keep saying yourself that there are ways to cheat death's embargo on magic, and I myself am an example of that.' Aragon replied.  
'It is still a rare thing for a Rider to be forced to carry Gurthang, the Iron of Death, but cursed with Eöl's cursed, reforged black blade from the moment they enter our order…' Eragon said, before drawing his wand and dragging the tip along the centreline of the casket.  
With a muted crack, the casket's lid broke down the middle and the two halves of the lid swung aside, revealing a black bladed, unadorned hand-and-a-half sword. Even the hilt wrapping and the pommel were stained from brightness by a black hue to the metal.

'Where did you find this blade anyway?' Asked Aragon curiously.  
'A very long time ago in the blessed realm, from the plunder of goblins, after they'd sacked the tomb of it's last wielder and victim, Túrin Turambar I believe his name was, he slew a dragon with darkness in it's heart before the dragon's master drove him to suicide.' Eragon explained. 'Hence, I thrust it on Riders who have shamed themselves, for a Rider's blade that has tasted a dragon's blood is something to be ashamed of, and the previous victims of Gurthang have not lasted long with it's curse hanging over them.' He added.  
_No backing out; she's responsible for my death, and the deaths of Seithrena and Dorian, if any have earned this mark of high shame and impending doom through action,-even inadvertent,- deserves it._ Aragon told himself firmly.

* * *

Katherine waited in the small antechamber alone.  
She had been moved under guard to the antechamber and given some decent clothes by two unsmiling guards.  
Now she waited anxiously.

The door suddenly swung open, and in came Aragon, gingerly holding a black bladed hand-and-a-half sword sheathed in a black leather scabbard, and accompanied by two elves, and his weird looking dragon.  
The male elf,-which Katherine thought was the older of the pair,- was carrying a leather-bound book in his arms, and looked grim, which surprised and chilled Katherine, as she'd found in her few, fleeting experiences with the fey-folk that they hid their feelings behind a blank mask.  
If this one was grim about something, then something bad was in the offing.

The female elf reverently carried the black egg she'd stolen the previous week.  
She placed the egg on a small table between them.  
Wordlessly, Katherine touched the egg.  
It was still for a long while, and Katherine felt her heart sink as she considered that maybe the dragon was repulsed by what she'd engendered.  
Then with a quiet crack, the egg's top broke.

The section of shell fell away, and a black dragon hatchling crawled from the shell.  
The female elf looked sideways at Aragon, and an unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them.

Meanwhile, the little dragon was busy licking the membrane off of itself.  
Now that the time had come, Katherine found herself hesitating.  
Hesitantly, she reached out with her left hand and paused as she saw the sword in Aragon's hands.  
'You'll strike me down if I bond with the dragon, or sever our bond.' Stated Katherine.  
'Your punishment isn't going to be nearly so cruel.' Said the female elf mildly. 'Not that you haven't committed crimes that would see you struck down under different circumstances.' She added.

Katherine went to reply, but the little black dragon had just nosed her hand.  
The next instant, Katherine was on her back, unable to move.  
The blast of icy energy had taken her completely by surprise.  
Within minutes, she could stand once again.

When she stood, she found herself eye to eye with the male elf.  
'Now, you must put your name in this book to be numbered among us, assuming you can write.' He said.  
Katherine grimaced.  
'I can't write.' She admitted.  
'Is there something you'd prefer to be called instead of Katherine Wilde?' Asked the elf.  
She was quiet a moment, then she looked at the elf.  
'My name is no longer Katherine Wilde, from hereon I am Faith Encarmine.' She said. 'And my dragon is Mor'ranr.'

The elf nodded, and filled in a line in the leather-bound book.  
Now Aragon stepped forward.  
'Now, as your punishment for causing mine, Seithrena's and Master Dorian Staves' deaths, I hold that while if in your position I would've done the same and thus refuse to see you executed for it, I inflict upon you the cursed blade Gurthang, Iron of Death, and charge you to bear it always as your weapon until your death, or you redeem yourself in mine and the Scion's eyes.' He said, offering her the black sword. 'May all who see you bearing this weapon know it as a mark of shame for the deaths you caused.' Aragon added gravely.

Faith accepted the blade in both hands.  
'Then never shall I draw it.' She said.  
'We shall see, Rhunön may refuse to forge you a sword once I have told her of this.' Said the male elf. 'Now, as for who your instructor will be, Elmïra, I'm putting her under your charge.' He said.  
'What?' Asked Aragon in shock.

Even the weird dragon Thelduin jerked around to face the male elf at this.  
'Eragon, have you lost your mind?' Asked the female elf, Elmïra.  
'No,' replied Eragon. 'I just think that Aragon is being rather unfair inflicting this particular weapon on Faith.' The old elf explained.  
'So you're punishing the both of us?' Accused Elmïra in outrage.  
'View it how you will.' Eragon retorted.

Meanwhile Aragon and Faith had locked eyes.  
Aragon felt a very heavy weight fall through his stomach at the wicked gleam that appeared in Faith's eye.  
_Oh demons above and below what have I done?_ Aragon thought silently.  
They both looked to Elmïra as she swore quietly.  
'Come on then you two, Faith you'll ride with me and Teclian, Aragon whatever you plan on doing for the rest of the day be off and attend to it.' She said wearily.  
'And if the two of you end up fighting, so help me I'll scourge the both of you.' She promised.

Aragon nodded, already resolving to not offer any provocation beyond what he already had to his new and unlooked for fellow student.  
There was a sharp _crack!_ and Eragon was gone, vanished into thin air.  
'Come on.' Elmïra repeated, opening the door and beckoning her apprentices to follow.  
'Lady's first.' Aragon said, he'd be damned if he exposed his back to someone he'd given good reason to stab.  
Faith gave him a sweetly vindictive smirk as she took his invitation.

_You should've just had her killed and empathy be damned, now look what's happened!_ Elmïra scolded.  
_I mightn't like it still, but I think you're right mistress._ Aragon replied grimly, eyeing Faith warily while she cradled the coal-black hatchling with a look of tender adoration on her face.  
_At least that's something to be said for her._ Observed Thelduin.  
_Aye, she does like Mor'ranr, but I'm still going to be wary of her; I have more or less damned her to die by that sword._ Aragon pointed out as they exited the section of the keep the antechamber was situated in.

Several of the citadel's guards and one or two of the riders gave Faith hard looks when they beheld the sword slung across her back.  
''Bout what she deserves.' Aragon heard one guard say.  
'Gurthang?' Asked another, 'no, Elmïra's apprentice is just too gutless to kill the little whore.'  
Aragon saw Faith flash her gaze at the guards.  
Then they caught sight of Mor'ranr cradled in her arms.  
Fortunately, before hostility could break out, Teclian arrived.  
He huffed a hot gust of air at the two guards, cowing them into silence.

Thelduin had already size-shifted to her adult size, and Aragon was already ensconced on his saddle.  
'I'm going flying with Thelduin for a while,' Aragon called.  
With that, Thelduin was away.  
_Just be sure you come back._ Elmira replied.  
Aragon sighed mentally, then leaned into his saddle as Thelduin angled away towards the Hadarac.

* * *

Hours later, they were lounging in the shadow of a sand-dune on the edge of the desert.  
'I suppose I'll be needing to bring cool clothes when we go after the Phantoms.' Mused Aragon.  
Thelduin cracked open an eye from where she was sunning herself on a rock in her hatchling size.  
_Don't forget provisions and plenty of water, as well as warm sleeping gear._ Thelduin added.  
'True, true.' He said.

In the shade as it was it was pleasantly warm instead of being stifling.  
'I also need to see about another sword I think, after that last debacle.'  
_And learn magic, you've demonstrated you're responsible enough. _Thelduin said. _There's a slaver just over the rise as well, a scout for a group belonging to our up-coming prey._ She continued.

'Ah, I could live here, it's so quiet.' Aragon said dreamily.  
He closed his eyes as if to go to sleep, and listened to the quiet scuff of sand as the scout crept over the dune.  
Cracking an eye open, Aragon watched as the slaver crept closer with a sword in his hand, marginally better kept than the one he'd used on the plains.

He waited until the slaver was in arms reach, then grabbed him by the groin, before pulling him off balance.  
The slaver gave a cry of surprise as he was pitched forward over Aragon, who used the moment to vault to his feet, before punching the slaver in the wrist, making him lose his sword.  
The slaver grabbed Aragon by the neck, and in response Aragon kicked him in the groin, before kneeing him in the face.  
Then he scrabbled up the slaver's sword and put it to the slaver's throat.

'Thelduin.' Aragon said.  
With an annoyed huff Thelduin gave up on her afternoon dose and shifted back to her original size.  
The slaver's eyes went wide with horror.  
'On your back.' Aragon said flatly.  
The slaver complied, before Aragon hog-tied the man with his own bootlaces.

With this, Thelduin dropped to all fours, and crouched down, allowing Aragon to haul the man onto her back and strap his legs to the rear of the saddle, before climbing on himself and strapping his legs to the arm restraints.  
'I think we've done enough fishing for one day, let's go home.' Aragon said.  
'And don't go struggling around too much back there, it's a long way to fall if you come loose.' Aragon called to the captive slaver.  
With this, he could sense the man's plans for escape dry up like a puddle on a hot summer's day.

Thelduin launched herself into the air and the slaver screamed as the red dunes of the desert receded.  
'Let's go home.' Aragon said, and Thelduin angled back the way she'd come.  
_I wonder if this counts towards the task we were given?_ Mused Aragon.  
_Anything to avoid thinking about Faith, hmm?_ Asked Thelduin. _Admit it, the real reason you saw her made a rider was because you like her._ She added.

Aragon pouted, although he knew the expression meant nothing as Thelduin couldn't see it.  
_Do you really think I'm that shallow? _He asked.  
_You can be when you want to be._ Thelduin replied with infuriating smugness.  
_Don't think I haven't noted that you're still spending almost every spare moment while hunting with Anarch._ Aragon replied.  
_Drop it, it's the mating season. I'm aloud to have feelings for another dragon, even if you don't like his rider. _We're. . Replied Thelduin with finality.

_If I come back to our quarters one day and you're tending a clutch of eggs, I know who I'll be blaming._ Aragon said darkly.  
Thelduin jabbed him with her thoughts. Hard.  
Aragon flinched violently and let the matter drop.

**Anything above twenty-three hasn't changed much due to the fact that my idea for the story hasn't changed in the time between when I posted it and now, and because so far as I can tell, there're no mistakes in it.**

**No One-liners.**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Loose Ends

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

'You want me to what?' Asked Sarah incredulously.  
'You heard me,' said Aragon in all seriousness, 'I'd appreciate it if you'd accompany me on my hunt to root out this slaver-band Vrael's sent me to eradicate.' He repeated.  
'You're using the 'you're aloud to take a companion' thing to get mine and Marinæ's help aren't you?' Stated Sarah, folding her arms.  
'That's part of it,' admitted Aragon, 'but I'm also kind of hoping Thelduin will fall for Marinæ, she's a little too friendly with Anarch for my liking.' Aragon admitted.  
'You're such a scoundrel.' Said Sarah, shaking her head in mock-condemnation.

Aragon refrained from mentioning what such a match might also result in, he didn't feel particularly ready for anything like that yet, least of all with Sarah, who he regarded as more of a friend than a potential love-interest.  
'But, I'll see what I can do, Eragon might have other ideas.' Sarah added.

Knowing that this was probably as close as he was going to get to a confirmation, Aragon nodded good day before heading back towards the citadel.  
He still had three days liberty, but he had a few questions he wanted to ask the slaver he'd captured.

* * *

The slaver glared venomously at Aragon as he stood outside his cell.  
'Alright, to save us both some time here, answer my questions and I won't have to rip them from your mind.' Aragon said in a bored tone.  
The slaver remained resolutely silent.

Aragon continued undaunted.  
'Do you work with the slavers known as 'The Phantoms'?' Asked Aragon.  
The slaver spat on the floor between them.

'Had you taken any captives before you tried to ambush me in the Hadarac? and if you don't answer me, I'll let Thelduin take you flying; and this time you'll be in her claws instead of tied to a saddle.' Aragon said flatly.  
'We'd taken a few.' Conceded the slaver, obviously not eager to go on another flight with Thelduin, he'd actually begged Aragon to kill him when Thelduin and he had decided to indulge in some acrobatics.

'And where exactly was your last camp, and where would they be heading if they know you were captured by a Rider?' Asked Aragon, crossing his arms. 'My threat still stands as well.' He added.  
The slaver gulped, bit his lip then, seemed to think better of it.  
'The Beor Mountains.' He said after a moment.

Aragon nodded.  
'Thank you, I hope you have a nice life; for what's left of it anyway.' He replied, before leaving, having monitored the slaver's mind the whole way through the conversation he knew the man wasn't lying.

* * *

Aragon slumped onto a couch with a sigh of relief in the main room of Elmïra's lodgings.  
It was early evening, and he'd been busy finalising details, and had even found time to pick up another sword, a task which had taken him the better part of two hours to find just the right blade.

A small mass landing lightly on his chest made him crack open an eye, and come face to face with Mor'ranr.  
'And to what do I owe your company?' Aragon asked the jet black hatchling.  
Mor'ranr just blinked at him, before curling up, continuing to stare at him with interest.

The creak of the stairs, and the entrance of a poorly shielded mind into the room made Aragon groan internally.  
'Faith, what exactly is the problem this time?' Asked Aragon, with something approaching irritation.  
Despite himself, Aragon couldn't help giving her a covert eye.  
He'd had no inkling that beneath grime of a solo trek from Dras Leona to Ilirea,-and the grime from before then,- she was actually rather attractive, in a sort of slender, sharp fashion.

'What makes you think I need your help?' Asked Faith with a sneer.  
She hadn't forgiven him for forcing her to carry Gurthang, nor had she gotten over her first flight on dragon-back.  
_I probably would hold a grudge if my first flight had've been combat-flying as well._ Aragon mused.

'I'm down here, you've got Mor'ranr sitting on my chest, and you're down here; unless you're trying to suggest something, you want something from me.' He said out loud.  
Faith whirled on him, eyes narrowed.  
Aragon suppressed a grin.  
Teasing Faith was almost too easy. At least when he teased Thelduin over Anarch, Thelduin defended her position without immediately rising to his bait.

'Sorry.' Aragon apologised after a moment. 'That _was_ in rather bad taste.' he admitted.  
For a moment, Aragon thought she'd hit him, but the moment past as Faith relaxed her stance, then went and sat on the small amount of free space not taken up by his feet.  
'I'm having trouble with Morzan.' Faith admitted.  
'He's an arse-hole.' Aragon said dismissively. 'Just kick him in the balls and walk off; he'll get the message. It worked for me.' He added, smiling at the memory of flooring Morzan when the idiot had tried to standover him.

Faith sighed.  
'He's…very forceful though…' Faith said reluctantly.  
Aragon groaned internally.  
'Faith,' Aragon said, 'turn his bullying arse into Elmïra, she'll deal with him, and he doesn't let up after that, hit him; and get some martial arts instruction from Elmïra or Eragon, I'm not fighting your fights for you. Gods know you've fought tougher on the streets than the likes of club-footed _Morzan_.' Aragon put all the scorn and contempt he felt for the other young man into his name, like it was a venereal disease.

'He said that you made me Rider because that was the only way either of us would ever-' Faith broke off blushing furiously.  
Aragon snorted in disgust.  
'If he's stooping that low, then I think there's a good chance Formora turned down his advance.' He said, referring to a rumour that Morzan was infatuated with the she-elf Dragon Rider. 'Just tell Elmïra the stupid bastard has been giving you a hard time. No shame in that, and it's better than getting kicked while you're down by him.' He added.  
Faith nodded in acceptance, and Aragon had a suspicion she wanted to add more, but instead she stood and collecting Mor'ranr, proceeded back to her room.

_You like her._ Thelduin observed idly from her dais in Aragon's quarters.  
_When you get over the fact that she caused my death, and the death of a senior rider, she's actually a rather nice person; it's just her run of luck that's put her in her present less-than-stellar position._ Aragon didn't really need to elaborate too much there. Thelduin knew what he meant.  
Thelduin projected a shrug, then a few moments later, Aragon sensed a dark, and ironic amusement stir in the back of her mind.

_Maybe Morzan was right there…_ She mused. _It'd be just like him to come to the right conclusion for the wrong reasons._ She added.  
Aragon found himself blushing hotly.  
_That was uncalled for._ He said.  
_Stop going on about me spending time with Anarch, and this stays between you and me._ Thelduin replied.  
_That's blackmail.  
__I'm a dragoness. What're you going to do about it?  
_Aragon swore quietly.

**No One-liners.**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hunting Phantoms

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

Aragon stood from where he'd been examining tracks left by his quarry, alone in the Beor foothills but for Thelduin.  
Eragon had told Aragon in no uncertain terms that Sarah would not be accompanying him the morning after he'd asked her to come with him.

After some debate with Thelduin, he'd decided against taking any of the eldunarì in residence at Ilirea along for the journey, mainly because on the few occasions Elmïra had left him and Thelduin with them,-either to learn some facet of something, or to meet a particularly distinguished dragon, or some other reason,- he'd found most of them to be haughty, condescending,-in some cases conceited,-and in some others, to be too wrapped up in overly-complicated thoughts to be good company, while a comparative handful were good company, but not inclined to go adventuring.

'Well, if memory serves, that is a canyon with only one entrance. We've got 'em pinned.' Aragon said, indicating the comparably tiny canyon entrance several miles to the south.  
_Careful they might just _want_ us to think that._ Thelduin cautioned.  
_True, but if push comes to shove, there's always plan B._

_What? Punch your way out?  
__Sort of, it was more like _fight_ our way out; you know, adaptable to the circumstances.  
__How very wise of you._ Thelduin replied.

_The Scion calls that sort of reasoning 'Ockham's razor'; personally, I call it common sense_. Aragon said.  
_So how do you plan on taking these slavers out?_ Thelduin queried.  
_That's the beauty of it Thelduin: we weren't charged to eradicate these slavers, we were only told to locate them. We leave the blade work to the Riders-in-full; besides, we're way too far outnumbered to be going toe-to-toe with them._ Aragon replied. _I say we just confirm these slavers are in that valley, relay the information back to Ilirea, then wait for the Riders-in-full to show up and aid in the slaver's demise._ He added.

_You took what I said about being more careful to heart didn't you?_ Thelduin asked with approval.  
_You're not the only one who thinks enough is enough._ Aragon replied wearily.

* * *

The sun had set when Aragon and Thelduin flew into the canyon, sticking close to the shadowy passes high above, Aragon surveying the valley with his mind, and Thelduin with her acute sense of smell and exceptional eyesight.  
_There._ Thelduin said quietly, and Aragon saw the image of a campfire in a heavily concealed clearing.  
When he focused his telepathy on the area, he got a sense of at least fifty human minds, all of which were heavily defended.  
Throughout the mental reconnaissance, Aragon made dead sure not to be noticed. When he was finished surveying the camp, he drew back to himself.  
_Let's go back to that ledge a bit further back down the valley and report what we found._ Aragon said, a sentiment Thelduin was happy to second.

After they landed, Aragon quickly invoked the scrying spell, along with a second enchantment to avoid alerting any mage the slavers might have.  
When the mirror cleared, he came face to face with Elmïra.  
'Do you want me to give you a goodnight kiss?' She asked with the barest trace of sarcasm.  
'And peace live within your heart, ebrithä Elmïra,' Aragon replied deadpan. 'No, this is business; We found the Phantoms, now what?'  
'Keep an eye on them, do not lose them, and we'll contact you as soon as we can.' She replied, before terminating the spell.  
Aragon sighed.  
_We're in for a long night._ Aragon said to Thelduin.

Thelduin curled herself up next to the cliff face, and extended a questioning thought to Aragon, who obligingly took a position between her forelegs, allowing her to curl around him to keep him warm, because despite the heavy, fur-lined leather cloak he was wearing, it was bitingly cold.  
From the ledge, they had a clear view of the campfires of the slavers, but Aragon kept checking periodically with his mind that the slavers were indeed there to be sure they weren't playing them.  
_Have you given any thought as to what we can do once we've finished our training?_ Thelduin asked Aragon while they waited.  
He shivered; he hadn't lit a fire to avoid giving away their position.

_I'd very much like to see what's across the sea to the west, or maybe go to Emelan…_ Aragon said at last.  
Aragon felt Thelduin's acknowledgement, and they were silent a while longer, just basking in each other's presence.  
_What think you of Faith?_ Thelduin asked, glancing down at her Rider.  
_From the standpoint of a fellow student, or from the standpoint of looking for some payback on me going on about Anarch and you?_ Aragon asked.  
Thelduin was silent at this.

_Both._ She said at last.  
_I like her._ Aragon said simply. _And she's got plenty of potential as a Rider, it'll be interesting to see how Mor'ranr turns out as well.  
__You see him as a more…_fitting_…match than Anarch? Even though we dragons don't pair for life?  
__I don't like Morzan, and the less I have to do with him, the better I'll feel for it._ Aragon replied.  
_So, you'd- why am I even talking about this?_ Thelduin asked.  
_Because you're not sure of your own feelings? You've yet to begin breathing fire Thelduin, and if memory serves, that's the best indicator of when a dragon can mate; _you're_ just entertaining the thought._ Aragon replied. _But, you're right, it isn't my place to tell you what to do; I can only offer advice and act as your conscience, which is only sweet justice for all the times you do exactly the same to me.  
_Thelduin nosed Aragon sharply in the shoulder.  
_Mind your tongue Aragon, or I'll drop you in the Beartooth River._ She warned.

* * *

The moon had risen when Elmïra contacted them again.  
'Keep watching those slavers, notify us if they move, and don't go trying to fight them, I'll be there shortly with a force of elven rangers to eradicate them.' She said.

'As you wish.' Aragon replied, casting out with his mind as he said it.  
The slavers hadn't moved. In fact, they hadn't fallen asleep either, which this late meant that there was something awry.  
'You might want to hurry, something isn't right, the slavers are wide awake, and from the general pitch of their emotions, terrified.' Aragon said, then noted the note of anxiety in his own voice.

He looked back at the mirror he used for scrying and saw it'd gone back to reflecting the shadows.  
Then, further down the valley, he saw an arch like the one he'd seen on Vroengard slide noiselessly from the mountainside, and Teclian came gliding through.  
_Something is wrong._ Aragon repeated, then shared his observations with Teclian and Elmïra.  
_It's ra'zac or I'm a hatchling._ Teclian said.

_Round two. Lovely._ Aragon said to Thelduin, snapping open his wrist bow.  
_This time, I am bigger and we're both more skilled._ Thelduin replied, crouching low so Aragon could climb onto her back.  
_They're still fresh out of my worst nightmares. I don't rate our chances to be much better than last time._ Aragon replied in a cautioning tone.

**And that just about does it for the edit of this story, meaning I am officially finished with it.**

**Feels kind of weird, but in an immensely satisfying kind of way.**

**No One-liners.**


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-seven

Everything Old is New Again

**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**

The sword hilt was slippery in Aragon's hand as Thelduin trailed Teclian down towards the clearing.  
In his left hand, along with the wrist bow was the enchanted spike, and on his lips a spell to light up the night bright as the noonday sun, and surrounding him was a ward to filter the effects of the Ra'zac's breath.

Despite all these advantages,-and the chain mail armour he was wearing,-over his first encounter with Ra'zac, Aragon could feel his heart hammering with fear, and he was jumpy with adrenaline, and every instinct screamed for him to run away as fast as his legs could carry him.  
_I'm right here Aragon._ Thelduin said.  
_That_, Aragon realised, _is what's going to keep me here fighting._

Having said that, Thelduin angled down and around the clearing, so she'd come in on the opposite side to Teclian.  
The old dragon was gliding in as stealthily as it was possible for a two-hundred-year-old dragon large enough to level a castle to be.  
Thelduin waited until Teclian had announced his presence with a thunderous roar landed, and Elmïra and the elven rangers she'd brought with her to dismount, before she landed to let Aragon off.

It was still eerily quiet as Aragon nodded an acknowledgement to Elmïra senses alert for-  
An ungodly reek filled the air, followed by a piercing shriek that nearly unmanned Aragon, and had the elves clutching their ears in pain.

Teclian launched himself back into the air, and Aragon saw a pair of ra'zac stalking among a cowering group of armed and unkempt men he and Thelduin had identified as the slavers, dealing death-blows with their claw-like hands left and right.  
Before they spotted him, Aragon snapped his left arm up, and fired a pair of bolts at the two monsters.  
In a testament to the hours of practice he'd put into his aim, both bolts bit home, one buried to the fletching in the haematite orb of an eye of the right most ra'zac, and the second one being a much more utilitarian neck-shot.  
Both creatures went down, the left one writhing in pain until Aragon stalked over and decapitated it.

_Behind you!_ Cried Thelduin, and Aragon spun around, and just barely got his sword into position to hack off the hand of yet another ra'zac, this one much bigger than the first two.

In the background, Elmïra and her rangers were fighting more of the creatures,-evidently so many humans in one area had attracted every ra'zac for miles around,- and Thelduin was grappling with a gigantic, hairless, dragon-like monstrosity with giant leathery wings. A lethrblaka.  
High above, Teclian was roaring, and sending bursts of fire through the air, and every now and then a shriek of pain, or a crash of a falling body heralded the death of another lethrblaka.

The ra'zac in front of Aragon lashed out with it's good arm, and Aragon went sailing through the air as it struck him, before fetching up against a tree, it came rushing back at him, but was intercepted by a short bolt to the shoulder, before losing its second hand as Aragon attempted to impale it through the chest.  
In retaliation, the ra'zac stuck it's head out and bit Aragon's upper left arm.

The pain was indescribable, and Aragon bellowed in agony, before taking the opportunity to reverse his grip on his sword and drive the blade through it's side and out through it's left shoulder.  
The ra'zac didn't relinquish it's bite as it died, and dragged Aragon to the ground, trapping him under it's body, completely helpless.

_Thelduin!_ Shouted Aragon in desperation, as yet another ra'zac scuttled into the clearing, and made right for him.  
'Istalri!' He shouted desperately, and the slaver's campfire spat a gobbet of crackling fire which caught the ra'zac in the small of it's back, causing it to shriek in pain.  
'Risa!' Aragon commanded, and the tele-blades rose out of one of his belt pouches and begun to circle with deadly purpose.  
'Jierda!' Aragon commanded, and the blades impaled the ra'zac.

Next, Aragon contacted Thelduin, and through her eyes, commanded the tele-blades to blind the lethrblaka she was wrestling.  
The blades whistled through the air and struck home in the beast's eyes as swift as arrows, eliciting an ear-splitting shriek from the lethrblaka which was loud enough to shatter a pebble by Aragon's head.  
This was cut abruptly short as Thelduin seized the abominable creature by the neck and bit into it's spine before thrashing her head from side to side to snap it's neck as she'd kill any regular prey.  
As the lethrblaka fell, Aragon saw that she'd taken a deep puncture wound to the shoulder during the struggle.  
With another command of Jierda, he impaled yet another ra'zac that thought it could make a meal of him.

Then a pair of giant ra'zac stepped from the trees and before he could take them out, roughly siezed Aragon.  
He bit his tongue in half suppressing a scream as the flesh was torn from his left arm by the movement.  
Thelduin bellowed in outraged agony at this, and leapt after the two ra'zac as Aragon used what little motion the grip of the two creatures allowed his right arm to stab the right-most ra'zac in the knee, causing it to stumble and drop him, the pain of this causing Aragon to blackout.

He awoke a few seconds later as a wash of terrible heat passed just above his head, followed by dozens upon dozens of high agonised shrieks.  
Aragon attempted to get back up, but gasped as another wave of excruciating agony washed over him and he blacked out once again.

* * *

He was in the middle of a deep, dark blackness.

For a while, he thought he was dead, but a little while later discarded the notion, as he obviously still had enough awareness to think. He hadn't been able to think when he'd died that first time.

Then, a while later, he began to feel warmth, and then the softness of a mattress underneath him and soft sheets, which convinced him he was in fact alive, but try as he might, he couldn't wake up.

Then, at last, a ravening hunger and a burning thirst broke through the spell and he stirred, fitfully, and with many an aching muscle to full wakefulness, before agonisingly pushing himself into a sitting position only to discover it was the middle of the night.  
He swore quietly, the expletive coming out as an unintelligible croak.  
'Mmph…?' The sleepy query made him glance around, and he saw Jarren had dozed off on a chair beside his bed.

The other rider sat up in his seat and rubbed his eyes.  
'You finally decided to wake up, eh?' Asked Jarren, before yawning cavernously.  
_Wanted to before but couldn't; how long was I out, and how long until I can get a drink or something?_ Asked Aragon telepathically to save his dry throat the strain.

Jarren's eyes glazed for a second, then refocused.  
'Five minutes, give or take, you've been out in the bed for about a week, and Elmïra and her rangers took about two hours to mop up those ra'zac and slavers, all up, you've been out for about a week and three hours.'  
_What ab-_

Thelduin made contact with Aragon so fast and so hard, for a moment he was dimly aware of her tail entwined with that of another dragon and a comforting wing across her back, along with her breaking the contact in her rush to confirm for herself he was alright.  
_Aragon!_ She exclaimed in relief.  
_I missed you to._ Aragon said, with a small smile.

Before he could ask what'd happened after he'd stabbed that ra'zac, Elmïra came in, bearing a tray that had evidently been hastily loaded, and bearing a bowl of steaming gruel and a glass of water.  
'Don't you dare complain Aragon, Oromis' orders; you're weak and still recovering, it was all Oromis, Vrael and Eragon could do to repair your arm, and heal your burns.' Elmïra warned.  
So saying, she unceremoniously placed the tray on his lap, then drew up a second seat, sat down, crossed her arms and glared at him. 'Eat.' She commanded implacably.

Aragon had just begun to obey the order when Thelduin flew in through the window, changing her size as she did, and would've wrapped herself around his neck if Elmïra hadn't have intercepted her.  
'Wait until after he's eaten Thelduin, and even then be gentle, he's still got a week of enforced rest before he can do anything strenuous.' She admonished Thelduin.

_So, what happened after I blacked out?_ Asked Aragon.  
_I breathed fire._ Thelduin said proudly, evidently immensely pleased with the development. It had been something of a sore point with her for months, since Infernia, Marinæ and Khârn had developed the ability.

'When you went down like you did Thelduin came and saved you, bit one of those ra'zac clean in half, then lit the other one up like a bonfire on midsummer's eve, shortly after that, one of the rangers got enough time to cast a spell that blinded the ra'zac and incapacitated them long enough for us to rout them; after that, I stopped you losing too much blood when Thelduin told me what'd happened, and after mopping up we came back here. We had to keep you out cold while Eragon, Vrael and Oromis repaired your arm, which is why you were out so long, but you've been sleeping for three days.' Elmïra explained.

Aragon downed his glass of water in one go.  
'Anything else happen I might be interested in?' He asked.  
'Faith broke Morzan's nose after she told him she wasn't interested in him; apparently he wouldn't take no for an answer.' Jarren said.  
Privately, the news cheered Aragon.  
'After you're done resting up, the Council wishes to speak with you.' Elmïra said patiently. 'Now, Jarren, I think we've intruded on Aragon's time enough, and you must be exhausted yourself.' So saying, she shepherded the protesting Jarren out the door, before closing it behind her.

_I was so worried, I thought I'd lose you again._ Thelduin said immediately afterward.  
_So, what have you been up to this past week, and who were you keeping company with before?_ Asked Aragon curiously, fairly certain that it'd be Anarch.  
_Oh, this and that, learning things from Teclian, hunting with Saphira…  
__Keeping company with Anarch?  
__No, he's taken a fancy to Vernaugr._ Thelduin said dismissively, referring to Formora's partner.  
_Then who were you just with?_ Asked Aragon.  
_Mor'ranr._ Thelduin said, equally as dismissively. _You mightn't believe it, but Faith has spent a good deal of time keeping watch here in case you stirred, and of course, Mor'ranr has been keeping her company, so…_ She shrugged with the same indifference.  
_You really liked Anarch didn't you?_ Aragon asked.  
_It doesn't matter, it isn't as if us dragons pair for life._ Thelduin replied.  
Aragon considered continuing to tease Thelduin about it, but then thought better of it. It'd be in very bad taste to keep that going when she obviously was still tender about it.  
Laying back down, he fell back to sleep, half in his own mind, half in Thelduin's.

* * *

The next week passed far too slowly for Aragon's liking, but at long last, Elmïra began to school him in magic herself, relieving at least some of the tedium.  
He also got visited nearly every day by Jarren, Sarah, Brom or Faith.  
Thelduin was also another balm for his growing frustration, taking his mind with her while she flew, giving him a new perspective on flying with her.

Soon enough however, Oromis pronounced Aragon fit to rise, and the next day, he was up and after completing the Rimgar and an hour and a half attempting to re-hone his martial arts skills, he washed up, dressed in his finest clothes, then he and Thelduin hurried off to the meeting hall.

When they arrived there, it took Aragon nearly a half hour to detail what had happened during his recent misadventure, and for Thelduin to give her version of the trip.  
After that, Vrael posed several questions regarding the trip, which they were both expected to answer.  
When at last Vrael had run out of questions, Eragon spoke up.

'You've come a long way Aragon.' He said at length.  
The others nodded in agreement.

'Not many with human-level strength who survive slaying their first ra'zac.' Observed Dalemor.  
Aragon refrained from mentioning that technically, he'd killed one before he'd been apprenticed to Elmïra.  
Again, the others nodded in agreement, and from the corner of his eye, Aragon saw Elmïra quirk him a small, knowing smile.

'You've got an uncanny knack for attracting bad luck Aragon.' Oromis observed.  
'And yet, you've also got a knack of surviving every misadventure that comes your way.' Vrael added.  
_We believe, that you've passed this little test._ Bid'Daum said, fixing Aragon with a pure white eye.  
_And that you're ready to move on in your training._ Umaroth said, the smaller white dragon nodding once.  
Aragon bowed in acknowledgement.

'You've still got a long way to go though.' Elmïra added.  
_And don't I know it._ Aragon thought to himself, and got a wry chuckle from Thelduin as a result.

**THE END.**

**Well.**

_**That**_** didn't go exactly according to plan all up, but then writing is organic, and organic things have a tendency to evolve.**

**It is with a huge idiot grin, and an immense amount of satisfaction that I write this last Author's Note for this story.**

**I've still got about sixteen chapters to write, and I'm going to insert a scene somewhere around nine or ten where Aragon and Thelduin encounter the Snalglí for the first time, but these things will have to be edited in, and might take a little, though the eagle-eyed reader will have noticed that the edit has already begun, and is already up to chapter nine.**

**Still, back on topic, Merry Christmas to everyone, and thanks to Hideout Writer and Forsaken By All for reviewing this chapter.**

**And a very big thank you to everyone who reviewed this story, or who followed it.**

**It is with a heavy heart that I do this last sign off for this story, but I'd still like a review or two, even if you're reading this after the fact.**

'**Til next time:**

**No One-liners!**

_**Fin.**_


End file.
